


Marvel

by tinyinkstainedbird



Series: Marvel [1]
Category: Impractical Jokers
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Romance, Shameless Smut, So much talking about cats, mental health
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-10
Updated: 2018-06-06
Packaged: 2019-04-21 01:49:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 45,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14274291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinyinkstainedbird/pseuds/tinyinkstainedbird
Summary: Q's just waiting for the goddamn day to be over when he meets a tourist who makes him hope the week never ends.





	1. what it takes to make a pro blush

_mar·vel  
(verb)_

_be filled with wonder or astonishment_

_(noun)  
a wonderful or astonishing person or thing_

 

The challenge was easy: get a stranger to give you advice on a bullshit problem. The others had taken their turns, playing chicken with the kindness of New York strangers. It was the end of the day and Brian “Q” Quinn was the last to go and all he had to do to go home before tomorrow repeated itself was just get through this final challenge.

Some days were fucking magic, the ones that coaxed out the sweetness in people. Today wasn’t magic. Days like today were harder, the days where no one would look at him, the days with all the curses and snaps barked his way, the days he swept under a rug in an attempt to stop them from keeping him up at night. It got to him worse than it did for the others; they all knew that. 

No one smiled. Never, not once, had someone seen him coming, and smiled up at him as he sat down. That wasn’t how New York did it.

She wasn’t New York. 

“Excuse me,” Brian said, smiling back in a way that wasn’t entirely voluntary as he turned to her on the park bench. He blustered through the rest; in his experience, he found it helped to eliminate the target’s chance to think or respond. “Do you have a second? I’m in a bit of a pickle and I was wondering if I could get your advice on something.”

She was still smiling, although he noticed she’d leaned her body away from him. The smile was there, but the trust wasn’t. “About what?” she asked. 

He didn’t have time to place her accent. The guys were already yammering in his earpiece, giggling with anticipation as they told him what to say. 

“I’ve got these cats,” he said, doing his best to interpret their commands, “and the white one is a real asshole to the black one and I think he might be racist.”

“Well, fuck,” she laughed, and her laugh brought it bubbling out of him, too. 

“I know, right?” he laughed back. 

“His meow sounds like a racial slur,” Joe said in his earpiece, which was followed by gales of cackles from the other two. 

“And the weird thing is,” Brian continued, “when he meows, it sounds like he’s, you know, he’s saying racial slurs.”

She raised an eyebrow. “The white one or the black one?”

“Uhhh--”

“Because if it’s the black one, maybe he’s just rapping,” she suggested. 

“No, it’s the white one, the white one,” he laughed. 

“Oh, yes, that’s definitely racist,” she said. 

He laughed, grinning when he saw that her response to his full-bodied laughter was a full-bodied blush. “Yeah, you got any advice on that?” 

“Well,” she said, “there’s probably just something little that’s bothering the white cat. Like maybe he doesn’t like his food or something happened to scare him like fireworks or something and now he associates it with the black cat.”

“Is that advice?” Murr asked. 

“That’s advice,” Joe confirmed.

“Cats can be really territorial, so I’d make sure they both have their own food bowls and kitty litters,” she said. “And maybe get them a cat tree so they can both climb and play and stuff. Although then you might get a Lion King situation so maybe don’t do that yet.”

“Oh, you have got to be kidding me,” Sal said. “What are the odds that Q would find a crazy cat lady for this challenge?” 

“Just let it play out,” Joe said. “Let’s see how weird it gets.”

So Brian did let it play out, but not for the sake of making anyone laugh. He actually had three cats, not two -- one of which he’d rescued off the fucking Brooklyn Bridge with cars whipping by at 80 mph -- and it was rare to find someone in the world of something called _Impractical Jokers_ who would want to have an actual conversation about his favourite gentle creatures. “Do you have cats?”

“Yeah, I’ve pretty much never not had a cat in my life,” she replied, and he noticed now that her body language wasn’t reading _don’t touch me_ quite as loudly as it was before. “I have a white cat right now too, actually. But she’s not racist.”

“How do you know?”

“I don’t; maybe she is.” She grinned, and it was so self-deprecating Brian smiled right back just to make her feel safe. “She does meow some pretty rude shit to the crows outside.”

Brian laughed while the guys jabbered in his ear but he barely heard them because he was marvelling. 

“Thank you, I’m here all week,” she laughed, her blush reaching the tips of her ears as she looked back down at the book on her lap. “Literally; I’m here till Sunday.”

“Q, show her your tattoo,” Joe said giddily. “Show her your tattoo.”

“That’s too bad, it’s not too often I meet a fellow cat lover,” Brian told her, rolling up his sleeve. “Check this out.”

“Fucking Jesus,” she said as she caught sight of the idiot cat tattoo on his arm: _38\. Lives Alone. Has 3 Cats._ She looked at it again and laughed. “That’s confidence, right there, my friend.”

“Thank you,” Brian said, rolling his sleeve back down. “I don’t know if that’s what most people would call it, but thank you.”

“I was thinking about getting a tattoo while I’m here,” she told him. “I thought it would be a good souvenir that would be easy to take home with me.”

“That’s awesome,” Brian said. “What are you thinking about getting?”

“I don’t know yet; I figured something to remember this trip by,” she said. “I just got here last night so I’ve got a week to come up with something.”

“Well, New York’ll give you a lot of ideas,” he said. “Have you been here before?”

“Q, tell her you have an idea,” Murr said.

Brian shook his head imperceptibly, not wanting them to be a part of this anymore.

“No,” she said. “This is the farthest from home I’ve ever been. I’m like equal parts super excited and shit-my-pants terrified. I watch a lot of _Law and Order: Special Victims Unit._ ”

He chuckled. “So like, excited you might see Ice-T and terrified you might get stuffed in a garbage bag?”

“Why, yes, thank you,” she laughed. “After getting murdered, yeah.”

Sal’s voice popped into his ear excitedly. “Q, tell her you have an idea for her tattoo!” 

“That’s not the challenge,” Brian muttered. 

“What isn’t?” she asked, giving him a look. “I mean, as a woman, I would argue that not getting murdered is sort of the challenge.”

“Tell her this should be her tattoo,” Sal said. “45. Killed 30 cats. Will die alone.”

At that, Brian pulled the piece out of his ear. He stuttered for a second, trying to find his footing, and then asked, “Where do you think you’d get it?”

“Get what?” she squawked, her laugh coming out shocked but still not quite at the same level as most people’s disgust. “Are we still talking about murder?”

“No, no, no,” he insisted. “Your tattoo.”

Her eyes flashed down to the plastic bud in his hand. “I’m not sure yet,” she said, her speech slowing down as she studied him. 

“Oh, well, I can recommend some good places for you--”

“Did you just take a hearing aid out of your ear?” 

He blanched. “Weeell--”

“I don’t have a ton of experiences with hearing aids but I feel like they’re not supposed to make noises,” she said. “Yours sounds like it’s laughing hysterically.”

“Yeah, uh,” he looked around, the hidden cameras cheapening the connection. “Okay. So. Listen. I don’t have a racist cat.”

Her smile froze in place but her eyes still danced with curiosity. “So that was your pick up line?”

“Yeah,” he said. “I mean no -- it was a line but not a pick up one -- I mean my friends tell me to --”

“Your friends told you to come over here and tell me about a make believe asshole cat?”

“No, no,” he said, covering his mouth uncomfortably. “This is a show.”

“A show?”

“Yeah, it’s a hidden camera show,” he explained. “Me and my friends do challenges and take turns embarrassing each other by feeding each other awkward things to say to strangers and--”

“How do you pick the strangers?” she asked. 

“It’s random,” he said. 

“So it’s not some kind of shitty whoever-brings-the-ugliest-date-wins idea?”

Brian shook his head furiously. “No! Holy shit, no. No no no.” 

She searched his face, and he hoped his horror was written all over it so she could stop looking so worried. “What was the challenge here?”

“To get advice on a bullshit problem from a stranger,” he said. “And fuck, you rose to the challenge. You’ve been charming the shit out of me since the second I sat down.”

She studied him. Her _no_ body language was back. 

“I just want to talk to you and that’s why I took the ear piece out,” he said. “The guys are barking away in my ear and I couldn’t hear you.”

Her expression was wary. “Why do you want to talk to me?”

“I mean, obviously,” he chuckled. “You’re funnier than any of the shit we were coming up with and no one was feeding you lines.”

“I am pretty funny,” she muttered, which just made him crack up all over again, and she looked startled by it again too. “Do you even have a cat?”

“I really do,” he insisted. “Three of them, in fact. I can show you pictures.”

She squinted at him. “What are their names?”

“Benjamin, Chessie, and Brooklyn.”

“What’s yours?”

“Brian Quinn; everyone calls me Q,” he said, putting out a hand that he hoped she would take. “And you?”

“Sadie.” 

“I’m happy to meet you, Sadie,” he said, relieved when she shook his hand.

“Me too, I think,” she said, and when she took her hand back, she laid her open palms on her knees, then cracked a crooked grin. “I was going to say we should go for a drink but I don’t know if you’re wearing a wire, so…”

Brian jumped to his feet. “Do I have to strip?” 

“No,” she laughed. 

“Do I have to strip, Sadie?” he demanded, their laughter falling over each other and rising in giddy tandem. “I’ve done worse, I swear I’ll do it. I’ll strip.”

Brian watched like a pup waiting for his person to throw the damn ball as Sadie smiled downwards and slipped her paperback novel into her canvas bag. He didn’t know if this was her way of saying she had to go or if it meant okay or if it meant she was scared of him or if -- 

“Maybe after the drink,” Sadie said as she stood, and Jesus goddamn Christ, the twinkle in her eyes was hellishly playful and he felt his fucking throat sink to his balls at the sight of it. It had all the flirt and come on of a wink but it was just a _look_ and from that second a rope wrapped around his middle and pulled him stumbling towards her. 

“Okay, yeah,” he said, doing his best not to crowd her as he pulled off his mic and battery pack and left it on the bench for one of the crew to get, but not before he quickly blurted “bye, bitches” into the mic and caught a blur of shouts and cheers from the ear piece. “Let’s go.”

Sadie slung the bag over her shoulder and looked up at him and he grinned right back. She was smaller than him, and smaller than any New York girl in the sense that the city wrapped itself around her and worried her and brightened her all at once. It was true: she wasn’t New York. And for the first time that he could remember, he didn’t mind. 

“Where to?” he asked, not even bothering to wipe this stupid look off his face as he looked at her. 

“Could you pick?” she asked, still smiling, but nervous, too. “Somewhere nearby? The place I’m staying is close to here and I don’t want to get lost.”

“Do you like dive bars?”

“My wallet does.”

“Then I know just the place,” he said. “This way.”

“Do you swear to fucking God this isn’t going to wind up as the inspiration for a _Law and Order: SVU_ episode?”

“If it does, I promise to only be a grieving suspect and not the actual murderer.”

“Well, that’s reassuring,” she said. “Tally-ho, then.”

Some days were fucking magic.


	2. everybody here was someone else before

Her stories would take too long to tell -- how she got here, how she broke her own goddamn heart, how being kind to herself was something she was trying to learn and that was what had put her on an airplane aimed for the other side of the continent -- but there was something about Brian Quinn that made Sadie Waters want to talk all night. 

It was nearly eight o’clock now, and they’d been shooting the shit for an hour, and the late spring sun was about to go down, and that made her a little skittish. Her anxiety tried to carve away at her thoughts like it always did, doing its best to convince her that something bad was going to happen if she didn’t hide herself away. After all, this was New York City -- a fact she’d been repeating to herself ever since she’d gotten here as a reminder to not let her guard down and get pick-pocketed or kidnapped or lost or a million other things she’d seen happen in the movies. She’d been hoping for a _Royal Tenenbaums_ or even a _Gremlins 2_ New York experience, not an _American Psycho_ one -- so what in the fuck was she doing here?

Smiling, apparently. So as the stars came out and Brian asked if she wanted another beer, she said she’d love one. (Besides, Margot Tenenbaum would most definitely get drunk with a doe-eyed man in a Manhattan dive bar.)

As promised, the bar was a total dive, but she felt safe, sitting at a table she knew he was going to come back to. His zip-down sweater was crumpled on his side of the booth because it was too warm in here to wear it, and the simple sight of it made this all feel so surreal. How had she gone from solitary tourist reading a book on a bench to sharing a booth in a dive bar with a stranger from a TV show who was off to get their third round of beers? It was mind-boggling, and it didn’t seem like it should be real, except here he was, back with two frosted pint glasses and a smile. 

“Here you go,” he said, setting the glass down in front of her before sliding back into his own side of the booth. “You know, you’re onto something with this craft beer thing.”

Sadie smiled. “It’s good, right?” she asked. “Once I discovered beer that tastes like nuts and shit I was like oh cool I can stop drinking fucking Smirnoff Ice now.”

Brian cringed. “I can’t even imagine the hangovers you’d get from that.”

“Nah, I was a baby back then,” she laughed back. “I hadn’t fully met hangovers yet, thank Christ. Now if I drink three beers, I want to kill myself in the morning.”

Brian raised his glass and clinked it defiantly against hers. “Well, here’s to surviving tomorrow morning.”

She took a swig. “I’ll drink to that.”

He swallowed and wiped his hand over his beard. “So,” he said, settling back in his seat. “I realized as I was getting beers, I’ve just spent the last twenty minutes rambling on about me and my stupid show.”

“No, no,” she said, waving a hand. “I think it’s so cool. I’m stoked to go home and watch it.”

“Yeahhhh,” he cringed. “You don’t have to do that.”

“Oh, you can bet your buttons I will,” she said. “But honestly, how many shows are there about actual friendships? I mean, there are shows like the Real Housewives of whoever and all that shit but those are petty assholes who already have every privilege in the world so why not throw a TV show on top of it? I love that you four are genuinely best friends who stuck together through all the mundane and the marvelous together. That’s so fucking charming.”

“Oh, I, uh,” he chuckled. “Uh, I. Oh.”

Sadie smiled, watching his fingers curl against his eyebrow in a way that was already familiar to her, his tell to say that he was embarrassed. “Anyway,” she said, gentle. “I’ve really enjoyed hearing about you and your stupid show.”

“Thank you; your turn,” he said, uncomfortable and unsettled, but smiling at her obvious enjoyment of it. “What made you decide to come to New York?”

“I mean, a lot of things,” she replied, and found herself drinking faster now that the focus was on her. “It’s a long story.”

“I’m ready,” he said, cracking his knuckles. “Start at the beginning.”

“No,” she laughed. “I just wanted to do something fun.”

“By yourself?”

She smiled. “You noticed that part, huh?”

He put up a hand. “Nothing wrong with flying solo.”

Sadie shrugged. “It’s a little scary.”

“But you’re doing it.”

“I’ve survived the first 24 hours, at least,” she said, with a smirk and a little roll of her eyes. “We’ll see how the rest of the week goes.”

“Did you come for something specific or just for the hell of it?”

“Both,” she said. “I specifically wanted to do something just for the hell of it.”

Brian arched an eyebrow. “Got a little restless?”

“Got a little watered down,” she said, because beer three was always when she started talking too much. 

“Can’t really imagine that,” he said. 

“Oh,” she chuckled softly. “I don’t want you to.”

He folded one arm on top of the other and gave her a look she couldn’t hide from. 

So she took a deep breath and a long drink and gave him the short version. “I grew up in this little redneck town, and I’ve always been a black sheep, just this giant weirdo my whole life,” she said. “I never fit in, and I liked that about myself, until the years went by and I never left, and I looked around and realized I fit in and it really wasn’t a good look on me.”

Brian nodded as he took that in. He didn’t say anything as he thought about it, and she didn’t mind, because the silence was so much kinder than all the variations of _you’re overreacting_ and _just give it six more months_ and _who do you think you can be out there that you can’t be here_ she’d heard from everyone back home. Somehow, this soft quiet was full of more understanding than she’d felt in years. 

Finally, Brian sat back in his seat and lifted one shoulder in a gentle shrug. “Well, I like weirdos better than normal people anyway,” he said. “I know a bunch of them.”

“You _are_ one,” Sadie teased.

He laughed. “Definitely.”

Sadie smiled. “I like them too,” she said. “Anyway, I planned this trip so I could spend some time by myself and recharge and get back to my weirdo roots.” She shrugged. “And find my rooting in general again.”

“Good city for that,” he said. “What is it?”

“What’s what?” 

“What roots you?”

“Writing,” she said. And maybe it was the third beer or maybe it was the big city or maybe it was the way he was looking at her, but all of a sudden she found herself telling him a truth she’d never even told herself before: “Out of all the things that have broken my heart, writing is the only thing I’ve never been able to walk away from.”

“Fuck,” he said. They cheersed again, and waited for her to elaborate, and after a moment, she did. 

“I guess that’s why I’m in New York,” she said. “I wanted to find a place where I didn’t fit in for a little while.” 

His eyes softened, dark-in-dark and kind. “Well, you don’t.”

“Good,” she smiled. 

“I wish you lived here,” he said, eyes down and fixed on the coaster he was spinning on the table, so he missed the look she gave him. “I might get my ass in gear with you around.”

She laughed. “I’m not in the business of getting anyone’s ass in gear.”

“Ah, fuck, that’s not what I meant,” he said, looking up. “I just mean it would be nice to be around someone who takes their work seriously.”

“And you guys don’t?” she asked, a smirk of disbelief on her face. “I googled your show when you were in the bathroom to see if this was an elaborate con, and it’s not. It exists.”

Brian gave an appreciative laugh. “The stranger danger is strong in this one,” he said. “I take it seriously, I just want to do better, that’s all.” 

She nodded. “Always a worthy goal.”

“I agree,” he said. “And fuck what anyone says -- if you love it, don’t walk away from it.”

“I’d die,” she laughed. 

“Well, this is the city to be in for artists,” he said. “You should think about it.”

“Maybe,” she allowed, non-committal because that was how she’d trained herself to be. She finished off her beer while she thought, her jittery, nervous brain doing its best to convince her he was tricking her while her heart pounded out all the reasons why she should listen.

“Sorry,” he said suddenly, taking her silence as discomfort. “That’s so fucking douchey of me to just assume you don’t have a ton of shit to go back home to, just because I like you. Do you want another round?”

“No,” she said, and then laughed. “I mean, yes. Yes, I want another round. No, I don’t have a ton of shit to go back to. Let’s start with the beer.”

“Oh,” he said, blinking. “Okay, I—”

“My turn,” she said, putting her hand on his arm as he moved to get up. “Stay put.”

She grabbed her purse and shuffled sideways out of the booth, grimacing at the leather sticking to her legs, then smiling when he looked at her in concern, like he thought he’d scared her off and she was using this opportunity to make a break for it. She shrugged her cardigan off, leaving it on her seat, and then gave him one last smile as she promised, “I’ll be right back.”

Sadie slung her purse across her body and stepped into the line for the bartender, pulling her phone out as she waited. Flipping through her apps as she tried to connect to the wifi, she realized she was a little drunk, because her fingers felt slow and clumsy, but it was a happy drunk. Her carrier was Canadian, so she needed wifi, but there was none here. She’d text her mom when she got back to her Airbnb to let her know she was still okay. For now, all of her stupid, wonderful decisions would be hers and hers alone.

She paid the bartender and tipped more than she needed to -- American money tended to make her panic -- and returned to the table, where Brian was smiling at her like he’d never stopped.

“I figured it was time for us to graduate to a pitcher,” she said, filling his empty glass before she filled her own. 

“Good call,” he said, waiting until she’d filled her glass, and then held out his to clink with hers.

“Cheers,” she said. “Here’s to new possibilities.”

He grinned. “Yeah?”

“I mean,” she said, grinning helplessly right back. “I’m drunk.” 

“Lightweight,” he teased. “It’s only --” He pulled his phone out of his pocket to check the time, and then winced. “Whoops, I have eight missed calls from my buddies and… 13 text messages asking where the hell I am.” 

“You should probably answer at least one of them,” she said. 

“Okay,” he said, spelling out f-u-c-k-o-f-f-S-a-l under his breath as he typed. He pressed send, put his phone down, folded his hands together, and looked at her. “So.”

She leaned forward and folded her hands together too, their knuckles almost touching, smiles on their faces. “So.”

“Level with me,” he said. “Really, no guy to go home to?” 

“No guy,” Sadie said. “Cat.”

“Are the guys in Canada crazy?”

“Every last one of them,” she replied. “I asked.”

Brian laughed. “That must have taken you awhile.”

“Just kidding, I don’t talk to people,” she said. “That’s why I’m single.”

“Now, this might be a rude question,” he said. “But are you crazy?”

“A rude but fair question,” she laughed. “But no, not particularly -- my last relationship ended about six months ago and I haven’t gotten back in the saddle yet. We were together since the summer after high school.”

Brian gave a low whistle. “That’s a long time, man.” 

“Yeah, it was.”

“At that point, even if it’s not working, it’s kind of like, well I put all this time in, so I can’t really start over now,” he said. “Or at least that’s what it’s been like for me in the past. You think you need to just stick it out and make it work, not for yourself, but for everyone else.”

“Exactly,” she said. “It wasn’t like hey you should leave because you haven’t had self-esteem in 10 years and you’ve given up on your dreams, it was like, oh, his mom is going to be sad, or I won’t be able to see so-and-so anymore because they were more his friends than mine, or all the girls at work who’ve been asking when we’re getting married are going to be so disappointed when I tell them, so I should suck it up and stay.”

“There’s a certain embarrassment to it,” he said. “It’s not cut and dry like in the movies.”

“Yeah, absolutely, because it’s a failure,” she said.

“I know what you mean,” Brian said. “I almost married my high school girlfriend too.” 

Swallowing her swig of beer with a startled gulp, Sadie felt a pang of ache and jealousy, which was absurd. “Really?”

“Yeah,” he said. “When I was 24. Too young. But that’s definitely a story for another time.”

It wasn’t hard to imagine this man with his shaggy hair and soft eyes and broad shoulders as someone’s high school sweetheart. As someone a girl would say yes to. This was the complete fucking opposite reason she’d packed her bags and come here, so she sat back in her seat, putting space between them. “Wow,” she said. “Things would have turned out a lot differently if you had, huh?”

He barked a laugh. “No shit,” he said. He gestured to his tattoo, specifically the _lives alone_ line. “I mean, the only thing that’s changed about this tattoo is that I’m 41 now, but I’ll take all this over that life any day.”

“I bet this isn’t an easy city to date in,” she said. “Especially when you do what you do.”

“It’s had its challenges,” he admitted. “And I don’t know how to fucking date. I’m a hermit. I just want to stay home and binge watch a series on Netflix and not have to worry about what to ask next or what to say or if it’s going well or if I’m fucking it up or if she only likes me because of the show.” He winced. “But this isn’t that. This is nice.”

She laughed, taking pity on him. “This is nice,” she agreed. 

“I haven’t worried about any of that shit with you,” he said. “I haven’t worried at all.”

“Me neither, other than my usual _Law and Order: SVU_ worries.”

“Naturally,” he said. 

Sadie smiled. “So what series do you want to binge on Netflix?”

“I wish I could watch _Stranger Things_ again for the first time,” he said. “Or find something like it.”

“Have you seen _Misfits_?”

“No, what’s that?”

“It’s this fun British show about a bunch of shithead teenagers doing community service when they get struck by lightning and develop superpowers,” she said. “It’s not as good as _Stranger Things_ in any stretch of the imagination but it’s funny and the characters are fantastic.” 

“That sounds fucking awesome,” he said. “I’m a big comic book nerd; I love when things get superpowers.”

“Well, then, if I ever make it back here someday, we should binge watch it,” she said, sounding and feeling cooler than she did once it was actually out of her mouth. 

“It’s a date,” he said, and she felt better instantly. His phone lit up with a text, catching his eye. “Jesus, stalkers.”

“You should take it, I don’t mind,” she said. “You don’t want them to think I’ve murdered you.”

“Making their lives easier is never my concern,” he said. He read a string of texts, and then sighed. “Sal wants to know where we are.”

“So tell him.”

“I’m -- you know.” He shrugged. “Having a nice time with you.” 

“Likewise,” she said. “We’ll still have a nice time if he joins us.”

“It would be all three of them. They’re a pack of idiots.”

She laughed. “Well, look, we’ve got this big booth with all this space going to waste,” she said. “If they show up, you can come sit next to me.”

Brian grinned, but couldn’t quite hold her gaze as he put a hand to his face and chuckled down at his phone with an arched brow. “The guys in Canada are fucking morons.”

“Every last one of them.”

“Even Ryan Gosling?”

“No, except for him.” 

“Phewf,” he said, and then put his phone face down on the table. “Okay, they’ll probably be like five minutes. They were drinking at a bar up the street.”

“Sounds good to me,” she said. “Hey, by the way, I’m super shy.”

He reached across the table and put a hand over hers, just for a moment, but long enough to do the trick: in an instant he had both calmed and melted her. “That’s okay,” he said. “They’ll still love you.” 

She trust herself not to guffaw stupidly, so she took a drink instead. 

They were playing paper football when three boisterous men appeared at the side of their table. It was like someone had opened up the cages in a pet store and let all the puppies out as they talked over each other, laughing and holding onto each other’s arms and clambering to get and give the most attention to and from the others. Sadie, who tended to fold up when she was in a crowd, would normally have found this terribly overwhelming, but instead found herself looking up and watching them like they were putting on a show. She liked them immediately.

Their booth was shaped like a horseshoe, so Sadie and Brian slid over and met in the middle while the others joined them on either side. Sadie listened and laughed along while they ribbed him for taking off and crowed about making him take a loss for the episode, and she didn’t really know what it meant when he said the punishment would be worth it but she figured it probably wasn’t a bad thing because his friends smiled at her when he said it.

“I’m Joe,” said the man sitting next to her, reaching over to shake her hand. He had bright blue eyes and always seemed ready to laugh and, despite the fact that he was the loudest, also felt like the oldest, like she could trust him. “Good to meet you.”

“You too,” she said, happy to hear that it sounded like he meant it, and then turned as Brian introduced her to his other friends, Sal and Murr. There was no such thing as small talk with these men but after a few minutes it felt like they’d all known each other for years somehow anyway.

“See?” Brian said to her, smiling over at her. “Told you they’d love you.”

Sadie laughed because she believed him. “This is nuts.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, looking at her in a way that made her wonder if they were talking about the same thing. “But I like it.”

“Me too,” she replied, settling back in her seat, content to just listen to these friends ricochet off each other as long as Brian’s thigh stayed pressed up against hers. 

Sal and Murr got up to fetch their own pitcher, while Joe stuck to water. Even stone cold sober, Joe was the funniest of the whole group, and Sadie loved how they all took such delight in him. Nearly thirty years of friendship and they weren’t tired of each others’ jokes. And what she loved maybe even more than that was how she could make them laugh just as much. 

She fit in. And for the first time, it suited her.


	3. you in that dress, my thoughts, i confess, verge on dirty

“Sorry, I have to pee,” Sadie announced, not knowing which way to turn. 

“Did you just apologize for having to pee?” Brian asked. 

“Haw, haw,” she said. “Someone needs to move; I am apologizing for the inconvenience.”

“You really are Canadian,” Joe said, shuffling out of the booth so she could slip out. 

“I’ll bring back a pitcher,” she said, and then laughed. “Although I didn’t realize how drunk I was until I tried to scoot sideways. Fuck me. Joe, you want a pop?”

“No but I’ll take a soda,” he teased. 

“You’re not going to bully the Canadian out of me,” she scoffed, finally making it out of the booth. “Be right back.”

“Hey, so, Q, what the fuck,” Joe deadpanned as soon as she was gone, making Brian laugh immediately. “How did that happen?”

“Beats me,” Brian replied with a shrug. “I can’t help but wonder if the tables have turned and I’m on a hidden camera show within a hidden camera show.”

“Hidden camera show inception,” Murr said. “That’s a great idea.”

“Yeah, or this is actually a punishment,” Brian said. “Like you guys found my perfect girl and at the end of the night she’s going to like whip off her disguise and she’s going to be a robot or my dad or something.”

Sal scoffed. “We don’t have that kind of budget.”

“I’m not kidding, what are the odds that you’d a) meet someone who likes cats and other nerd shit, and b) doesn’t run screaming as soon as you open your mouth?” Joe asked. 

“Slim to none, historically,” Brian said. 

“Well, I like her,” Murr said. “She’s got moxie.”

“Yeah, I do too, so be cool, you assholes,” Brian said. “Don’t fuck this up for me.”

“Yeah, you can do that just fine on your own,” Joe said, and they all cracked up. 

Their conversation parted ways as Murr got a message on one of his dating apps and Sal giddily and drunkenly tried to help him compose the perfect response. 

Brian smiled as he caught sight of Sadie emerge from the bathroom and hold the door open for a woman about to go in after her. Joe noticed. 

“She’s sweet,” Joe said. 

"She is," Brian said. “That’s what I like about her.”

“Me too.” Joe shook his head like a disappointed but reluctantly amused dad across the table as Murr described the girl who’d messaged him to Sal by miming mondo gozongas. “That’s what I like about her for you.”

“Do you guys _know_ how confusing your money is?” Sadie demanded, returning to the table with a pitcher and a coke. “I’m so sad for you.”  


Brian was a bit dismayed when she sat down before he could tell Joe to get out and let her sit beside him instead, but he also liked that she was comfortable enough with them to do so. “This should be good,” he chuckled. “How is it confusing?”

Sadie passed Joe the coke, and then filled her and Brian’s glasses with beer. “It’s all the same! A dollar looks like a fifty! They’re all the same colour and size!”

“Well, you see, how it works is you read the giant number on it,” Brian explained. “I’m sure you’ll get the hang of it.”

“Oh, fuck yourself,” she said, causing them all to cackle, except for Brian, whose jaw just dropped and hand covered his heart in shock and awe. “Look at my Canadian money!”

“You mean your Monopoly money?” Sal asked. “I hear it’s worth about as much.”

“Less, probably,” she replied, pulling her wallet out and digging through it for the Canadian cash she had inside. “Look! Five dollars is blue! Ten is purple! I don’t have anything more than that because I’m a poor person but trust me, our currency is a rainbow and very easy to pay for things with. Here, I try to buy a bottle of water and I get all flustered and I’m just like well fuck I don’t know here’s a hundred I guess.”

“Ridiculous,” Brian said, laughing deep in his throat even as he took a swig of his beer. “Adorable, but ridiculous.”

“The name of Murr’s autobiography,” Joe said.

“You know,” Murr said, using his pinky to point at her in a way that was both dainty and hilarious. “I like it.” He flattened his hand to indicate he meant business. “I mean Canada’s rainbow money, not my autobiography. That’s not what it’s called.”

“Have you been here before?” Sal asked Sadie. 

“No, I haven’t even been here a day yet,” she laughed. “This certainly wasn’t on the itinerary.”

“What do you have planned?” Brian asked. 

Sadie was too busy hoping he’d ask to be a part of whatever she had planned to notice the looks exchanged between Joe, Sal, and Murr at the sound of sudden shyness in Brian’s voice. “Not a ton, honestly,” she said. “I’m a big fan of playing it by ear when it comes to traveling.”

Joe put a hand on her shoulder. “Could you scootch out, honey? I gotta take a whiz.”

Sadie did as she was asked and then slid back into the booth, back next to Brian, and the two of them smiled at the reunion and missed the subtle thumbs up that Murr gave Joe. 

“One thing I do want to do is see some plays,” she said, grinning when his thigh found its way back to its place against hers. 

“Oh yeah?” Brian asked, grinning back. “Which ones?”

“ _Waitress,_ specifically -- I’m seeing it on Wednesday,” she told him. “It’s one of my favourite movies and I’ve been dying to see the musical for ages.”

“I don’t know that one,” he said. “What’s it about?”

“It’s about a woman in an abusive marriage who accidentally gets pregnant and then also accidentally falls in love with her doctor while making a bunch of pies,” she said. “It’s funnier and sweeter than it sounds. It has one of my favourite lines in a movie ever.”

“What is it?”

“Oh jeez,” she said, waving a hand. “I’m drunk-babbling.”

“No you’re not,” Brian said. "Go ahead."

She smiled. “Out of context it might not sound like much, I don’t know,” she said. “But when I was 21 and I heard it for the first time, it really knocked the wind out of me.”

He nodded, waiting, so she told him. “I can’t remember it word for word, but it’s about hoping someday, somebody holds you for 20 minutes straight without pulling away or looking at your face or trying to kiss you. They just wrap you up and hold you without an ounce of selfishness.”

He didn’t say anything right away, so she shrugged, ducking her head down to hide her blush. “It just makes love sound really kind,” she explained, wishing she hadn’t said anything at all. “And back then, when I was this total stupid fuck up, it was easy to feel like that wish was written for me.”

“Did you ever get it?” he asked. 

She shook her head. “Twenty minutes is an awful long time.”

He pursed his lips, unsure of what to say, but when his hand closed over her knee cap, she felt like maybe he’d heard what she’d been trying to say. And not just what she’d been trying to say tonight, but for the last ten years. He gave her knee a squeeze and then topped up her beer. 

“I heard _Come From Away_ is supposed to be really good,” he said. “Have you heard of that one?”

“Yeah, I’ve heard the opening number,” she said. “It’s on my list of shows to see too.”

“Do you want to?” he asked. “With me?”

It didn’t register to them when Joe sat down again, this time on the other side of the table next to Murr to give them some privacy. Brian was too busy waiting for her answer and Sadie was too busy lighting up and letting her walls down as she said _absolutely._

“Yeah?” Brian asked, locking eyes with her in a way that finally, officially, one hundred percent hooked her. All night, they’d danced around each other with darting glances filled with sparks and flirty smiles, but now, with this look, with those eyes, she was in. This was it. Time to shift gears. “How about Friday?”

“Friday’s perfect,” she said, turning her body so it was lined up sideways to the table and the other guys across from them, and so that it was fully facing Brian. 

“Great,” he said, “I’ll get tickets tomorrow.”

“I guess I should get your number,” she laughed. “Then you can let me know how much the tickets are so I can pay you back.”

“You can have my number but you’re not paying me back,” he huffed, arching an eyebrow at her. “Give me your phone, I’ll put my number in it and you can text me yours.”

She handed her phone over, thrilling even when just their fingers brushed. This dumbass crush was steep as fuck. 

But she thought maybe he felt it too when he gave her phone back and just looked at her and laughed like he couldn’t fucking help it. “It’s a date,” he said. 

“Is it?” she asked. 

“Oh yeah,” he smiled. 

“Hey fuckers,” Sal said. “Let’s do shots and talk about pizza.”

“Those are my two favourite things to do,” Sadie said, twinkling her fingers in excitement as Murr returned to the table with a tray full of whiskey shots. 

“Hey, mine too,” Brian said, and Sal gave his shoulder a shove when Brian and Sadie took a moment to ooze heart eyes at each other. 

“Get a fucking room; those are everyone’s favourite things to do,” Sal scoffed as he divvied up the shots between everyone, except for Joe, who didn’t drink. “Cheers to whatever bullshit or whatever.”

“How fucking inspiring,” Sadie laughed, knocking back her shot and wrinkling her nose at the taste. 

“Did you say we’re getting pizza?” Murr asked. 

“I said we should talk about it,” Sal said, pissy by nature. 

“Pizza’s not something you can really just talk about though,” Sadie pointed out. 

“True,” Joe said. “There’s nothing worse than an unsatisfied pizza craving.”

“Okay, so let’s come up with a game plan,” Brian said, taking this moment to address the table but to also smoothly drape an arm around the back of the booth behind Sadie’s shoulders. “Can we agree we’re going to Gino’s?”

“Oh, here we go again,” Sal said, and Sadie laughed, because he sounded like an old Jewish grandmother who just wants you to find a husband already. “You and your fucking Gino’s.”

“What?” Brian demanded. “You don’t like good pizza?”

“Yes, I like good pizza, you idiot,” Sal said. “You know perfectly well that what I _don’t_ like is people who sneeze like elephants when they’re pulling my pizza out of the oven.”

“That was literally one time and he sneezed nowhere near your pizza.”

“Did you know sneezes travel at 100 miles per hour?” Sal shrilled.

“That’s fascinating, but he covered his mouth.”

“And then touched my pizza!”

“He sneezed into his elbow,” Brian said. “He didn’t pull your pizza with his elbows, moron.”

“100 miles per _hour_ , Q!”

Brian turned to Sadie to fill her in. “Sal’s a huge germaphobe.”

“I’m not a germaphobe,” Sal said. “I value good hygiene, that’s all.”

“You have a phobia of RAILINGS!” Brian cried, leading the chorus in laughing at Sal. 

“Have you never stopped to think about how disgusting railings are?!” he yelled. “How do I know that the person who touched the railing before me didn’t have his finger up his asshole first?!” He rolled his eyes when the others gave him a look of amused disbelief. “And also they’re scary.”

“I have a phobia of tomatoes,” Sadie offered, cutting through the relentless ribbing of Sal. 

“Well, that’s just silly,” Sal said, and they all cackled.

“You get more and more bizarre as the night goes on,” Brian said, creating a line graph out of his hands to demonstrate. “And yet I become more and more attracted to you at the same time.”

“Sounds about right,” Joe chuckled, reaching across the table to pat Sadie’s hand when she blushed furiously. 

“Why tomatoes?” Murr asked. 

“They’re oozy,” she replied. “And they leave their guts all over everything they touch.”

“So do you not like pizza?” Brian demanded. “Because that might be a deal breaker.”

She looked up at him and crinkled her nose. “I love pizza, lucky for you.”

“Lucky for me,” he laughed.

“How about catsup?” Joe asked. 

“I don’t know about catsup but I like ketchup just fine,” she teased. “It’s only the tomato itself that grosses me out. And actually, tomato soup is my favourite food. I have it for lunch every year on my birthday.” 

“Well, that’s good,” Murr said. “That’s about as fancy as Q’s cooking skills get.”

Brian tossed a coaster at him. “Fuck you.” He looked at Sadie. “I can make grilled cheese too.”

“Be still my heart,” she smiled. “Although, in my opinion, a nice ham sandwich is the perfect companion for tomato soup.”

“Oh, interesting,” Brian said. “I’ll have to test that out sometime.”

“Well, you have my number,” she said with a waggle of her eyebrows. 

“And I’m not afraid to use it,” he said, arching his back. 

“Ugh, God,” Sal groaned. “So what’s the verdict on the goddamn pizza?”

“I think it’s unanimous,” Murr said. “After this pitcher should we head out?”

They all agreed, even though Sadie and Brian had just started a new one so it might be awhile. 

“Man, tomorrow’s gonna suck,” Sal said. “What’s our call time?”

“Not until 10,” Joe said. “It’s gonna be a busy week though.”

“Shit, you’re right,” Brian said, and then looked at Sadie. “That sucks, I was hoping we could hang out more this week.”

“Well, Friday,” she said, trying to hide her disappointment and remind herself she didn’t come here for him or anyone else; she came here for herself. 

“Definitely,” he said. “And I guess you’ll probably be super busy all week anyway too.”

“I’ll find ways to keep myself occupied, I’m sure,” she smiled. 

“Yeah, you’ll have a great time,” he smiled back, but looked as disappointed as she felt.

As “Don’t Stop Believing” began to play for the sixth time that night, Joe shook his head and shook his fists at the sky. “I’m going to strangle someone and frame one of you for it.”

“Don’t do that,” Sal said. 

“I’m gonna do it,” Joe said. “Someone needs to take the jukebox back.”

“Jukebox!” Sadie exclaimed. 

“You wanna check it out?” Brian asked. 

“Yes!”

“All right, let’s go,” he said, nudging his shoulder against hers and then following her out of the booth. 

“Where is it?” she asked, gazing around the bar, which was now packed with drunken bodies laughing around tables and dancing up a storm on the dance floor. 

“This way,” he said, placing a hand on the small of her back and gently leading her to the other side of the bar where the jukebox stood in the corner. 

“This is exciting,” Sadie said, smiling up at him. “I get to judge you on your musical taste.”

“Based on one song?” he laughed. 

“Yep,” she replied. “Better not fuck it up.”

“Oh boy, pressure’s on.”

“I’ll say,” she laughed, picked her song, and then stepped aside so that he could pick his. “I won’t look.”

Brian flipped through the song options, and then stopped and looked at her. “Hey,” he said. 

She leaned her hip against the jukebox and looked up at him. “Hey.”

“I’m, uh--” He laughed, his hand going to his brow. “I’m glad that, uh -- I’m glad I sat down.”

She smiled. “At the park?”

“Yeah.”

“Why did you?” she asked. “Why did you sit next to me?”

“Because you were by yourself,” he said. “You seemed like you were in a good mood. And then you smiled at me like this was some small town and you were happy I was walking up to say hi to you.”

“I was happy you were walking up to say hi to me,” she said. “You’re cute.”

“I’m cute?” he asked, grinning ear to ear.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” she laughed. “You’re so cute I’m like mad about it.”

“Are you sure you’re not just drunk?” 

“I’m that too,” she admitted. “But more than that, I’m thanking my lucky stars I didn’t finish my book on the plane.”

He laughed, the sweetness of that sentence making it impossible to stop himself from leaning forward and placing a hand on her waist. “Why?”

“Because if I’d finished it on the plane, I would’ve been at a bookstore looking for something new to read,” she said, pressing into his touch. “Not at the park, sitting by myself in a good mood, smiling at cute strangers.”

“Well, thank our lucky stars,” he chuckled, taking a step closer to her. 

“Exactly,” she said, tilting her head back so she could look up at him. 

“What book was it?”

“What?” she asked, not listening. 

“The book,” he said, grinning at the distracted look on her face. She didn’t want to be talking any more than he did right now. “What book were you reading?”

“Oh,” she breathed. “ _History of Love_.”

Brian couldn’t help it; he laughed. “Of course,” he said. “What’s it about?”

She shook her head. “Who fucking knows,” she said, his eyes making her forget pretty much everything except for this. “But there was a line I liked.”

“I can tell you this is something I’m going to like about you,” he grinned. “What was the line?”

“‘Once upon a time, there was a boy who loved a girl,’” she said, “‘and her laughter was a question he wanted to spend the rest of his life answering.’”

Brian’s hand went to her face before he could even think to stop himself, and he couldn’t even keep up a smile anymore as Sadie turned his face to nuzzle into his touch; all he could do was marvel. This girl who loved lines about love but had never been held the way she wanted to, who laughed and smiled far more easily than she allowed herself to trust, whose hands were covered in ink stains and whose bag carried a paperback she couldn’t put down. This girl who didn’t know who he was but smiled at him anyway. His thumb stroked the line of her jaw as his other hand went to her back and pulled her closer. 

“Hey, can you guys pick another spot to make googly eyes at each other?” 

Sadie and Brian burst into laughter, a blush blooming over Sadie’s cheeks and chest and Brian’s hand going to his face as a grumpy hipster impatiently waited his turn for the jukebox. Brian quickly selected his song, wrapped an arm around Sadie’s back, and led her away, giggling when she said sorry in the most Canadian accent he’d ever heard. 

“Don’t say sorry to hipsters,” Brian told her. “You’re in New York now.”

“Sorry,” she said, holding on to him as they cut across the dance floor and staggered with laughter. “I have to pee.”

Brian led her through the crowd and to the corner of the bar where the women’s bathroom was. He couldn’t possibly return to the guys with this fucking look on his face, and anyway, they were the last things on his mind right now, so he leaned his back against the wall and waited for her with a grin stretched ear to ear.

When she emerged, she emerged in tandem with another girl, the two of them laughing about something before they parted ways with a squeeze of each other’s hands. With a smile still leftover on her face, Sadie looked up and saw him and looked surprised to see that he’d waited for her. 

“You waited,” she smiled. 

“You made a friend,” he smiled back. 

“I like New York,” she laughed. 

“It likes you too,” he said, lacing his fingers with hers and pulling her closer. 

She fit her feet between his, leaning into him with his back up against the wall. It was crowded over here, with people waiting in line for drinks and others squeezing past to get into the bathrooms, and someone bumped into her without looking back but she didn’t mind because it pushed her closer to him and he took that opportunity to take his hands back and put them on her waist, his thumb stroking her hip bone in a way that made her feel every ounce of liquor and every lonely year and every pump of blood in her body. The bar could catch on fire and she wouldn’t be able to tear her eyes away from him. She certainly couldn’t stop smiling. 

Brian’s voice was quiet but she heard him anyway. “Are you really going to come back?”

“Yes,” she said, just as quiet, and he kissed her. 

It wasn’t a tentative kiss, wasn’t careful treading in untested waters, wasn’t timid curiosity. It wasn’t asking permission, it wasn’t shy, it wasn’t clumsy. No, with his hands on her hips and her hands on his face and her stomach against his and his hunger bending her body backward, this was deliberate and deep and finally and it was fucking sure as hell. 

Sadie’s hand moved to the back of his neck as she felt her knees begin to shake, and he smiled against her lips as he felt her knees shake, too. His smile turned into a laugh and she held on for dear life. 

“Are you shaking?” he whispered, his mouth next to her ear and sending shivers down her whole body. 

All she could do was nod. 

“That’s kind of hot,” he chuckled, but he was just as rattled and out of breath as she was. He wrapped his arms around her waist and rested his chin on the top of her head, their hearts hammering against each other. “Holy fuck.”

She nodded again, folding her arms around his shoulders and pressing her forehead into his neck. They stayed like that for a little while, quiet and still and getting closer and closer, and then she took a breath and laughed and held him tighter. “This is --” She hesitated, scared to ruin it by saying too much. “--this is a thing.”

“Oh yeah,” he said, and tightened his hold too. “This is a thing.”

“You too?”

Now it was his turn to only nod. He punctuated it with a kiss to her cheek, and then found his way back to her lips. This kiss was softer, sweeter, the kind that took its time, a kiss that had safely found its way home and was happy to come or go. They made out in the corner like a couple of teenagers until the song playing had ended and a new one started. 

She burst into a grin that made him stop kissing her long enough to break into a grin of his own, too drunk off her and these kisses and the two pitchers of beer and this entire lovely night to even form a proper sentence. His _what?_ came out in a breathy laugh instead of a four-letter word with a question mark and then his hands were in her hair and all he wanted to do was spin her around and pin her up against this wall but all he did do was smile. 

“My song,” she breathed back, her knee pressed between his legs in a way that made it clear that she’d love to be pinned up against just about anything right now. “This is the song I picked.”

“Dexy’s Midnight Runners?” he laughed and found himself hugging her. 

“Yes,” she laughed. “Let’s dance.”

Brian didn’t tell her that he didn’t dance, that his lack of rhythm was a running joke among his friends, how it was a source of fascination and amusement for them. Because, for the first time in pretty much his entire life, that was what he wanted to do: dance. 

Hand in hand, they made their way into the centre of the dance floor. She was practically bouncing with delight as the strings dug in faster, and he turned to her and shook his head with a helpless shrug. “I can’t dance!”

“Me neither!” She stood on her tiptoes, kissed him, and launched into motion. She was lying: she could dance. Maybe not gracefully, or well, even, but happily. Joyfully. Dancing to her meant bouncing, hands never far from his, feet moving with a sweet spring, and never in a million years would she guess that a man in New York would watch her dance to “Come On Eileen” like he’d never seen such a fucking turn on in his entire life. As the song crescendoed, he found himself dancing along with her, not giving a shit what he looked like or what anyone would say or how much they’d laugh or make fun of him; he just danced because she did and his body wanted to move with hers, to be as happy and alive as she was. By the time the song was over, he was sweating up a storm, and so was she, and they collapsed against each other with delighted exhaustion and desire and then Brian’s song came on. 

“Holy shit, I love this song,” Sadie said, rosy-cheeked and lighting up. 

“It’s mine,” Brian told her, breathing hard. “Do I pass your test?”

“With flying fucking colours,” she replied, slipping her hand into his and placing the other on his shoulder. He took the cue and rested his hand on her waist, and they swayed to Roy Orbison’s “You Got It” like they were the only two in the room. 

“Sorry I’m so sweaty,” she said. 

“Pretty sure I could get you sweatier,” he said, ducking his head so his mouth was by her ear. 

Her surprise quickly became a grin, which then sharpened into a naughty little smirk. “I was counting on it,” she replied. 

It was a song from the sixties and she was a girl from the other side of the border and they were both so sweet and earnest and he never imagined something so naive would drive him this fucking crazy, but here they were. He held her tighter, half-hoping this song would never end, half-hoping it would hurry the fuck up so he could get her home and get her clothes off. When the song ended, he dipped her low, loving the way her hand tightened around his but the rest of her body trusted him completely, and then he pulled her back up and kissed her and knew he’d never hear this song the same way again and when she kissed him again he knew this wouldn’t be the last time they’d dance to it together. 

With her still wrapped up in his arms, he pressed his nose into the side of her face and asked, “Can we sit down now?”

She burst into laughter and nodded. “Please.”

He took her hand, fingers intertwined and strong, and it didn’t once occur to him that he’d always hated holding hands, because now that they’d started, he just needed to keep touching her in some way. He could feel it: this was different. This was loud and clear in her pulse and he held on tight so he could keep on feeling it. 

“Hey, twinkle toes,” Joe said as they collapsed back down in their booth, both of them sheen with sweat and bright with smiles. “I didn’t realize you’d put your dancing shoes on tonight.”

Brian grinned, and when he saw the knowing, delighted expressions on his friends’ faces, he smiled down at the table top. “Me neither.”

“They drank your pitcher,” Joe said. 

“It was delicious,” Murr agreed. 

“Yes, because it’s time for pizza,” Sal said. “Let’s skedaddle.”

Sadie and Brian exchanged looks -- they didn’t want the night to end. But the guys were already shuffling out of the booth, so they had no choice but to follow them. They headed for the door, and Sadie passed one quick glance over her shoulder at the bar before they left so she could remember it: the dance floor and the jukebox and the horseshoe booth and the corner where he’d kissed her. She hoped they’d come back someday. She hoped this wouldn’t be it. 

Brian held her hand all the way to the pizza parlour, and the two of them were content enough just to listen and laugh along with the others. It wasn’t until after they’d ordered their slices and eaten them and left the parlour that they finally spoke of anything resembling goodbyes or tomorrow. 

“Where are we going?” Murr asked. 

“I’m walking Sadie back to where she’s staying,” Brian said. “You guys don’t have to come.”

“Hey Q,” Joe said, clapping him on the arm. “Check out this hilarious shit Simmy just texted me.”

Brian looked over his shoulder to where Joe walked behind him on the sidewalk. “What?”

“Come here.”

“No, just show me.”

“I said come here, you dumb bitch.”

Brian laughed and gave Sadie’s hand a squeeze before he fell back in line so he could walk beside Joe. Sal took Brian’s spot next to Sadie, pointing out buildings to her. Murr trailed behind, still perusing his own phone for hook ups, although by now he was too drunk to do anything about them. 

“What did he send you?” Brian asked Joe.

“Nothing,” Joe said. “I just wanted to talk to you for a second.”

Brian gave his friend a confused smirk. “Okay.”

“On a scale of one to that time in Germany, how drunk are you?”

“Hmm.” Brian gave this some thought. “Not quite sure how this scale works, but I’m gonna go with 12.”

Joe laughed his infectious laugh and threw an arm around Brian’s shoulder. “We’ll call it quits early tomorrow,” he said. “Make plans with her. But maybe just walk her to her door tonight.”

Brian shrugged. “What if I don’t see her again?”

“You will,” Joe chuckled, giving him a little shove forward. “Now go ask that girl on a date.”

Brian stumbled forward happily, squeezing himself in between Sal and Sadie and putting his arms around their shoulders. “Sup bitches.”

“Not like that!” Joe called. 

“Oh.” Brian grinned sheepishly at Sadie. “Sorry, that was for Sal.”

“It’s true, he refers to me in the plural form all the time,” Sal agreed. 

“I’m convinced,” Sadie said. “Sup, slut?”

Cackling, Brian lowered his arms so he could take her hand again, barely noticing when Sal dropped off to walk beside Joe again. “Hey, so, what are you up to tomorrow night?”

Sadie shrugged. “Tomorrow night? Depends how much my feet hurt from all my afternoon adventures.”

“Well, if they don’t hurt too much, would you want to come have dinner at my place?”

“I don’t need feet to eat dinner,” she scoffed. 

“I don’t know how Canadians do things so I didn’t want to assume,” he said, smiling when she laughed. “So is that a yes?”

“It’s a fuck yes,” she replied. “You’ll just have to give me explicit directions on how to get there.”

“Oh, no, I’ll have someone pick you up.”

“How fucking fancy,” she said. “You have drivers?”

“We do have drivers,” he said. “I’d come get you but we’re filming on Staten Island tomorrow so I feel like it makes more sense to let the driver battle rush hour while I go home and figure out how to work my stove.”

“Okay, but don’t feel like you have to cook,” she said. “Clearly I like pizza.”

“I sensed you might after your third piece.”

“New York pizza doesn’t fuck around.”

“No it does not,” he agreed. “But I’ll try my best to make something anyway.”

“Bless your heart,” she smiled. 

“So I’ll text you tomorrow and let you know how the day’s going? I’ll have more of an idea what time I’ll be home then.”

“Perfect,” she smiled. “I’m excited to meet your cats.”

“Listen,” he chuckled. “I’m already convinced you’re my dream girl. Any more of that cute shit and we’re going to have a problem.”

“Get real,” she laughed. “I’ve been putting up with your shit and my goddamn butterflies going bananas all night so you can just deal with it. Oh, also, this is where I’m staying.”

They came to a sudden stop in front of an elevator/laundry building, only blocks away from the park they’d met at. “This is it?”

“Yeah, I’m on the first floor but it’s still pretty quiet,” she said. “I like it so far.”

“Good location,” he said. “Especially since you want to hit up some plays while you’re here.”

“Yes, I did some googling before my trip,” she said. “I’m an excellent googler.”

“She loves cats and she’s internet savvy,” Brian said. “What a catch.”

“Oh man, you should see what happens when I combine the two,” she said. “Magic.”

Brian turned around to where his friends were taking their time strolling up the walk to meet them. “Hey guys, this is my dream girl, and I’m going to walk her to her door.”

Laughing, Sadie gave him a gentle elbow and then met the guys halfway to give them all hugs and say goodnight. Joe invited her to a barbecue at his place that weekend and then, when she said she’d love to, gave her a hug that made her feel like he was welcoming her home. She was so glad she met them, and she told them so. 

“Be right back,” Brian said, and then waited quietly as she unlocked the front door. He followed her inside with a hand on her back. She led him down the hall and unlocked that door too and then looked at him with questions all over face. 

He kissed her and answered a few of them. And then, pulling back and running his hands through his hair, he answered the biggest one: “I really want to come inside.”

“Your friends are waiting for you,” she said, but leaned into him in a way that said please do. 

“Yeah, but that’s not why I can’t.” 

“Why can’t you?”

“Because I’m drunk and you’re drunk and I don’t want it all to happen in one night.” He grinned, his mouth by her ear. “Plus I have to be up early and I know if I stay here tonight there’s no way in hell I’m getting out of bed tomorrow.”

She grinned back, her nose pressed into his neck. If she closed her eyes, she could fall asleep, right here, in this doorway, in these arms, but instead, she took a step back and smiled with her hand on the doorknob. “I mean, I was probably gonna go puke anyway.” 

“Welcome to New York,” he laughed.

“Thank you,” she said, and it was the sincerity with which she said it that nearly made him change his mind. She watched him while he hesitated, not quite able to leave.

“Anytime,” he replied, voice cracking. He kissed her cheek and put his hands in his pockets. “Nice to meet you, Sadie Waters.” 

“You too, Brian Quinn,” she said. They didn’t know it as she closed the door and he walked back down the hall, but the smiles they wore when they said goodnight were the smiles they’d wake up with.


	4. the rain falls around; our doubts learn to drown

Brian was fearless the next day. There wasn’t a challenge he couldn’t do. Even his hangover didn’t have shit on his mood. This was a good goddamn day.

It only got better every time Sadie texted back, which she always did right away. He’d known girls who seemed to operate by the same rule book that told them they had to wait at least an hour before replying to text messages from the opposite sex. Likewise, he had no intention of playing it cool whatsoever, texting her as soon as he woke up in the morning.

“Hey. Had a great time last night. Hope you’re not too hungover today. Still want to have dinner at my place tonight?”

“Do I ever!” came the immediate response, with a follow-up close on its heels: “I had a lovely time too. :)”

They texted back and forth once or twice an hour throughout the day, quick updates but not a full conversation, which he liked. He’d never been all that good at keeping up a conversation via text, didn’t like it, didn’t know when to stop it, didn’t know how to read tones or when his tone would be misconstrued and when it would start a fight. Today was just full of happy little bursts of sunshine and it fuelled him through every embarrassment and jab that came his way.

Finally, when he knew what time they’d be wrapping up, he quickly slipped his phone out of his jacket pocket and texted her. “Calling it quits soon. Where should I tell our driver to pick you up?”

“I’m still at the Strand,” she wrote back, punctuated with a heart-eyed emoji.

He grinned down at his phone. “How many hours is that?”

“Only three,” she replied. “But I can always come back tomorrow.”

If he were the type to use emojis, he would’ve used a heart-eyed one of his own. Instead he said, “Mike should pick you up around 5. Try not to charm him too much.”

“Try not to suck any dicks on your way through the parking lot.”

Brian’s jaw dropped.

She texted a cheeky grinning face, as if to say _ta-da!_

“Oh my God,” Brian laughed, elbowing Sal, who was in the chair next to him. “She just dropped a _Clerks_ reference on me.”

“She’s a keeper,” Sal said.

Brian smiled down at his phone and texted back. “Yeah, you’re a keeper.”

+

The thing that struck Sadie the most on her way to Brian’s was that she didn’t feel self-conscious. She had stories from her day that she was excited to tell him about. The dress she was wearing was pretty. Mike, the driver, was easy to talk to. For a girl whose entire life had been ruled by anxiety, the fact that she was able to happily keep up a conversation with a stranger without her body or brain shutting down with worry was no less than remarkable.

She loved everything about the drive -- the scenery, the company, the music on the radio, the storm clouds rolling in. By the time the car pulled up to a modest brick house in a quiet Staten Island neighbourhood, she was practically bursting at the seams with excitement.

“Here we are,” the driver said, stopping the car. “It was nice talking to you.”

“You too,” she said with a grin. “Have fun at your daughter’s game tonight.”

“I will,” he smiled, and then nodded out the window, his eyes on the house. “I’m sure I’ll be seeing you again.”

Sadie turned her head and followed his gaze, only to see Brian waiting on his front step, getting to his feet. She beamed, turned back to Mike to say goodbye, then climbed out of the front seat. She dashed up the front walkway, smoothing her dress down as she went, a laugh bubbling out of her as he hurried down the sidewalk to meet her halfway.

“Hi, hi, hi, hi,” she whispered, her arms going around his neck as his went around her waist.

“Hi,” he whispered back, raising one hand in a wave to Mike before he wrapped it back around her waist and lifted her off her feet in a giant hug. “It’s good to see you.”

“It’s good to see you too,” she said, for once not wondering how heavy she must feel to him, but instead just feeling safe and lovely in his strong hold. “How was work?”

“Great,” he said, setting her back on her feet but keeping his hand on the small of her back as he led her towards the front door. “Did you have a good day? Come on, let’s go inside.”

“I had a fantastic day,” she said, smiling as she entered the house and took it in. His walls were covered in framed photos of friends and family with splashes of colour from vintage comic book art and the only shoes by the front door belonged to him. She kicked off her shoes and tried to calm the flutter in her chest. “Your house is gorgeous, I love it.”

“Thanks, I actually grew up in this neighbourhood,” he said. “The high school I went to’s just a couple blocks down the road.”

“Cute,” she said. “That’s where you met the guys, right?”

“Yep.” He pointed at her bare feet. “You don’t have to take your shoes off.”

She scoffed. “I’m Canadian.”

“Do Canadians not wear shoes?”

“Not in houses.”

“That’s such a Sal thing to do.”

“What, have proper manners?”

He grinned. “Yeah, while being real sassy about it,” he laughed, and then shrugged and kicked his boots off too. “If you can’t beat em, join em, I guess.” He wiggled his toes and they stood smiling idiotically in the front foyer before he shook out of it and said, “It’s cool you’re here.”

“It’s cool you wanted me here,” she said with a wondering shrug.

“I really did have a fucking blast last night,” he said. “I was worried maybe it was just the beer talking and maybe you’d think I was a creep or something.”

“For being a complete gentleman?” she laughed. “You played Roy Orbison and bought me three slices of pizza.”

“Chivalry ain’t dead.”

Sadie smiled up at him. “I’m not going to lie, it’s pretty surreal,” she said. “Yesterday morning I woke up in a different country like… the most alone I’ve been in a long time, and feeling pretty determined about my whole fucking lonely situation. And then I went to bed with my face smooched off.”

“Whoops,” he laughed.

“I also looked up clips from _Impractical Jokers_ on YouTube,” she laughed back. “So now I know how you got that tattoo.”

“Oh God,” he said, his hand going to his face. “Now I’m even more amazed that you actually showed up.”

Sadie reached out and touched his arm. “No way! It was hilarious! I was sitting there alone at 2 AM drunk and cry-laughing.” She burst into a new batch of laughter as she remembered one of the clips. “You were all super funny but I could not handle Joe. All he has to do is have a face and it makes me fucking die.”

“That’s Joe, all right,” Brian chuckled.

“Oh my God, and you and your hey buckaroo how are you,” Sadie laughed. “It was amazing. The only thing about going home I’m looking forward to is watching the rest of the episodes.”

Brian grinned like a moron, running a hand through his hair uncomfortably, not one to take any kind of compliment without getting super weird about it. “I’m glad you liked it,” he said. “Are you hungry?”

“I’m starving,” she said. “I forgot to eat lunch, which is not something I usually forget to do.”

“Too many books?”

“Too many books,” she said with a lovelorn sigh. “Nothing could tear me away.”

“Except me.”

“Well.” She grinned. “Whatever.”

They laughed, and he nipped her elbow with his fingers. “I’d give you a grand tour but I’m pretty sure I’m burning dinner, so we should probably eat it.”

“Ooh, yes please,” she said, following him into the kitchen, which was bright and homey, cluttered with personal little touches and still a little lonely. “You must have the sunniest mornings in here.”

“I do, as a matter of fact,” he said, heading for the stove and the covered pot cooking on the element. He reached for the lid and then thought better of it, taking her by the shoulders and turning her away to lead her to the dining room. “Fuck, I forgot, it’s a surprise. Get out of here.”

She laughed, pulling a bottle of white wine out of her bag as she allowed him to push her out of the room. “Fine, I’ll dig into this while I wait.”

“Hold up!” He rushed around the table, pulled a chair out, waited for her to sit, both of them giggling, and then tucked her in. “Okay, sit tight.”

After she poured two glasses of wine, Sadie grinned like a goddamn fool as she sat at the neatly-made table and gazed around the room, admiring the art and even the cat hair on the curtains. It was cozy and sweet, just like him.

But her grin became a flat-out guffaw when she looked up to see him carrying a bowl out to her and then realized it was tomato soup. “Jesus Christ!” she laughed. “Where the hell did you come from?”

“Staten Island, baby,” he laughed back, setting the bowl down in front of her before he dashed back and got his own. “Ready for the piece de resistance?”

“No!” she exclaimed, hand over her heart, wanting to chase him down and kiss him up against the cupboards as he disappeared back into the kitchen. When he returned, he had two plates in his hands, one for him and one for her. “Oh my actual God. You didn’t.”

“I did,” he said, looking pleased as punch as he set the plate in front of her and then sat down kitty corner to her. “I hope I didn’t fuck it up.”

Sadie gawked down at the tomato soup and ham sandwich dinner before her. “I could fucking cry,” she laughed. “Thank you, you lovely little weirdo.”

“You’re welcome,” Brian said, bashful over her gratitude, and then picked up his wine glass to clink against hers. “Cheers, sweetheart.”

“Cheers,” Sadie said, resting her chin on her hand as she looked at him. “I could get used to you calling me sweetheart.”

“Is it the accent?”

“Yes,” she said. “And you.”

He laughed, dropping his eyes to the table, shy. “Well, I’m sure I can arrange it.”

“Thanks,” she said, blowing on her soup before she spooned it into her mouth. “My mom’s going to feel really betrayed when I go home and tell her I met someone who makes tomato soup better than she does.”

He lit up. “Really?”

“Delicious,” she confirmed. “I can’t believe you made me my stupid-ass favourite food.”

“It was pretty easy,” he said. “The instructions are right on the can.”

“No, I just — it was nice of you to remember.”

His soft smile became serious as he studied her, but didn’t tell her what he was thinking. “So did you finish your book?”

“Ooh, yes,” she said. “It ended even more perfectly than it started.”

He sputtered for a moment, unsure how to respond to that. He wanted to say that he hoped their week ended the same way but he hoped they wouldn’t end at all, but instead settled for nodding in appreciation, smiling when Sadie looked at him like she understood and agreed. “Did you find anything new?”

She told him about her new books and a couple of the others she might go back for tomorrow, and he told her about his favourites too and then when she asked about his day today he had her in stitches as he told her all about the ridiculous thing Joe made Murr do and how Sal knocked over a potted plant when he fell down laughing. By the time they’d recapped their days, the soup was long gone and so was the wine.

Rain started gently outside and Brian smiled over at her. “Hey, I forgot to tell you, I checked the weather and you might get your storm after all.”

Sadie tilted her head at him. “I told you about that?”

“Deep into the night,” he said. “You read that New York was in peak thunderstorm season and that’s what made you decide to finally book your flight.”

She grimaced. “I hope I didn’t talk about my thing with storms for too long.”

“Only like an hour.”

“Cool, I have to jump out a window now.”

“I’m kidding,” he said. “You said it to Joe, anyway. He asked what sights you wanted to see while you’re here and you said a good storm.”

Sadie smirked, unnerved. “Did you take notes on everything I said last night?”

“No, but I paid attention.”

“Well, thank you.”

He studied her. “I kinda get the feeling maybe people haven’t always remembered stuff you’ve told them?”

“Oh,” she chuckled. “To the point where I stopped bothering to talk.”

“Jesus,” he said. “That boggles my fucking brain. Sitting here listening to you, I’m just like — I mean, you’re… you.”

“It’s funny you should say that because I’m sitting here hoping you talk all night.”

“Fuck,” he laughed, speechless beyond obscenities, watching dazedly while she got up to clear the table, not cluing in that he should help her until he heard the sink running in the kitchen. They were loading the dishwasher together when thunder rumbled in the sky.

Brian’s eyes traveled up her body as she froze and turned her head to look out the window like she couldn’t quite believe it, like this was one more piece of magic she hadn’t dared to ask for because she didn’t think she deserved it.

Brian closed the door of the dishwasher and had to stop himself from pulling her to him. “Do you want to go outside and watch?”

“Yes,” she said, and let him lead the way through the back door and out onto the covered back porch. She smiled instantly when she saw his backyard. “This is a jungle.”

“Yeah, it mostly involves never mowing the lawn and letting everything grow wild.”

“I love it,” she said, sitting down beside him on the front step. “Look at those clouds! Arrghhghghrghh.”

Brian grinned over at her. “Hey Sadie, do you like clouds?”

“Ahgrghrghrgagb.”

He laughed delightedly. “What a giant nerd.”

“Unabashedly,” she said. “Look at them, they look so angry.”

“They’re definitely up to no good.”

“Did I tell you last night it never rains where I’m from?”

“No,” he said. “That must be a bummer for you.”

“It is,” she said. “Everyone loves how sunny it is all the time but I get so goddamn restless. Clouds roll through sometimes but they just keep going and never turn into anything. I feel like ever since I was little, I’ve been watching the sky and waiting for it to do something it’s never going to. It’s so frustrating, like to never get that release? Blue balls.”

“So why stay?” he asked. “Your boyfriend?”

“Ex,” she clarified. “I don’t know, really. All his friends stayed and he had no intentions of ever leaving either. I knew if I stayed with him, I was staying there.”

“That’s too bad you felt like you had to stay somewhere that gave you blue balls just so someone else could be happy,” Brian said.

“It’s dumb, yeah,” she said. “None of it ever turned into anything.”

“Plenty of other skies out there,” Brian said.

“Yeah,” she agreed. “I don’t know why I haven’t left. Maybe it’s because my mom would be sad.”

“I get that,” Brian said. “But I hope you won’t always think that someone else should be happier than you, sweetheart.”

Sadie brought her eyes down off the sky to look at him. She knocked her shoulder against his. “Thank you for saying that.”

He smiled softly. “You’re welcome.”

“What about you?” she asked. “Never had any desire to live anywhere else?”

“Not even a little.”

“That must have been nice.”

“And a little stupid,” he said. “I mean, all these years, this amazing girl was out there and I was dumb enough to think I had everything I needed right here.”

“Ah, but that’s where our lucky stars come in,” she said, crinkling her nose at him.

And that was where the thunder came in. Crashing, crescendoing, cursing calamity. Lightning rolled in electric sheets across the sky while thunder rumbled in their bones. Sadie lit up like a little kid watching fireworks, and Brian did all he could to watch the sky instead of her, though he couldn’t stop himself from putting his arm around her shoulders and pulling her against him.

They watched wordlessly as the sky worked its magic, sparking and shaking, and neither of them could have asked for a better show to see together for the first time. This would never belong to anyone but them.

Her heart skipped beats against his side and he was sure she could hear his hammering and he wasn’t sure how long he could sit here without looking at her but then the sky opened the fuck up and rain came clamming down with apocalyptic fury and she lifted her head from his shoulder and kissed him.

It was lip biting and tongue tied and trembling and gasping, chests pressed together like they couldn’t get close enough, hands roaming open-palmed up and down the lengths of each other’s arching backs. It was Brian scooping Sadie’s leg up and pulling it over his and it was Sadie hooking her knee over his thigh and it was his thumb ghosting over her cheek and it was safe from the storm and right on its heels and smack dab in the middle of it.

They eased up when the rain did. Sadie burst into a sunny smile as he looked at her with dazed puppy-dog eyes and then she ducked her head against his chest and laughed deliriously while he threw an arm over her shoulder and caught his breath.

“I think the storm is over,” she whispered.

He laughed; he had nothing else.

“Do you want to go back in and drink some more wine?” she asked.

“We drank it all,” he said, finding his voice.

“I brought two bottles,” she said.

“I don’t know how none of the men in Canada have married you.”

She laughed. “Well, let’s go back inside and I’ll tell you all about one who didn’t want to.”

“Challenge accepted,” he said. “I’ll tell you about the girl who almost married me but dumped me and married a cop instead.”

“Woof,” she chuckled. “I don’t know if I can top that, but I’ll see what I can do.”

“Game on.” Brian got to his feet and helped her to hers. He held her hand as she led the way back into the kitchen and to her bag, where she produced a second bottle of wine amidst all her new books. They popped the cork, giggling at the sound before they poured two glasses and brought them to the living room.

Brian sat in the middle of the couch while she curled up in the corner, her feet tucked under his legs. He curled his arm around her knees and took a drink of his wine. “So where do we start?”

“Wherever you want,” she said. “You go first.”

“My first relationship was with the girl I almost married,” he said. “We started dating in freshman year. So it’s not hard to see why that didn’t go well.”

“Jesus Christ,” Sadie said. “I see what you mean when you said when you’re together for that long you feel like you might as well see it through.”

“Exactly,” he said. “And when you’re that age, you don’t have any other perspective or reality to compare it to, you know?”

“I do know,” she said. “So what happened?”

“Well, and I mean, this is maybe too much information but I guess something you should know, I have some problems with depression and shit and back then I was working this job I hated because I was getting married and I didn’t think I had any other choice and I was just not in a good place mentally. Like, not to freak you out, but there were some nights that I’d just look around my apartment and wonder if the rafters would be strong enough to hold my body. More nights than I care to admit.”

Sadie nodded but didn’t interrupt or touch him.

“The beginning of the end is that both of us went on vacation separately with our friends,” he said. “When she got back, she tells me she didn’t _cheat_ on me, but one of her friends brought her cousin and nothing happened but she just wanted to mention it.”

“What a fascinating thing to mention apropos of nothing,” Sadie said.

“Yeah, put a pin in that for later,” he laughed. “So the wedding day’s getting closer and I’m fucked up and one night I sit her down and I’m just crumbling in front of her and I’m like hey listen I’m having a hard time right now and I think maybe I need to go to therapy or something and her reaction was _my fiance wants to kill himself, how is that supposed to make me feel?_ ”

“Holy fuck,” Sadie said, wide-eyed. “Holy fuck. That’s not okay.”

“No, it was pretty shitty,” he said. “And then she got up and left to go clubbing with her friends.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah, but that wasn’t even the kicker,” he said. “I go to bed and I’m just laying there stewing in my thoughts like I have been for months anyway and then at 1:30 in the morning, she calls me and asks me to go get her bagels so she has something to eat for breakfast in the morning.”

“Motherfucking _bagels?_ ”

“Motherfucking bagels,” he chuckled “That was when I got pissed. I left that night and that was it; I only ever saw her three more times after that. And then six months later she was engaged and six months after that she was married.”

Sadie flailed. “Was it to her friend’s fucking cousin?!”

“Bingo.”

She shook her head. "That's the worst story I've ever heard."

"It's not my best."

“It’s bonkers,” she said, blown away. “I’m really sorry that happened to you.”

He shrugged. “I’m not trying to say she was a horrible person or anything,” he said. “It’s a funny story now.”

“I mean, comedy is tragedy plus time,” she allowed. “But seriously, that’s fucked. It says a lot about you that you’re not saying she’s a horrible person but I hope you know that you are not someone who deserved a fraction of any of the shit that happened to you that night.”

“Thanks,” he said, but didn't sound convinced.

“I mean it,” Sadie insisted. “I know it’s hard when you’ve got a brain that plays tricks on you, I have the same problem, but it’s important you know you deserve to be heard and you deserve a good night’s sleep and you deserve some goddamn loyalty and everything in between.”

Brian stared at her for a moment before he looked away. He cleared his throat and said, “I don’t know how to respond to that,” he said quietly, “but I heard it.”

She smiled, touching his arm lightly. “Good.”

“What about you?” he asked. “First relationship?”

“Same as my last one,” she laughed. “I mean, there was some harmless high school shit, but like I said last night, I was always kind of a misfit. I didn’t go to parties, I didn’t flirt in class, so I didn’t date much in high school besides a couple of idiots I liked because they were losers and at the time I didn’t think I could get anyone better.”

“Yikes,” Brian said. “You got over that, I hope?”

“Well, no,” she laughed. “Not for awhile. After high school, my plan was to work for a year and save up money for school. So the summer I was 18, I got a job at Blockbuster.”

“Hey, I worked at Blockbuster too,” he said. “I was the assistant manager.”

“Really?” She smiled. “That’s even cooler than the fact that you’re on TV.” She thought for a moment. “Cooler than you being a fireman, even,” she said. “Because… fire is hot.”

He gave her a horrified look. “Leave.”

Sadie threw her head back and laughed. “Just kidding,” she said. “I nearly boned you then and there at the bar last night when you told me you used to be a firefighter.”

He rubbed his hands together. “Good to know,” he said, resting a hand on her knee. “Go on.”

Sadie took a deep breath and rolled her eyes at the story she was about to tell. “So yeah, that’s where I met my ex.” She smirked. “I guess I have a thing for men who manage Blockbusters.”

“It’s the uniform, isn’t it?” he asked. “Usually they say that about the fireman uniform, but I feel like the Blockbuster polo never got enough credit.”

“That shirt collar, ugh,” she said, fanning herself. “Anyway, that was it. He was popular and he liked me and that made me feel special for the first time in my life and then the year after high school came and went and all of a sudden it was September and I told myself, okay _next_ September for sure, and then before I knew it, I’m 30 and all my friends have left and I’m laughing at the same jokes in the same bars in the same town, watching him flirt with the 18 year old girls serving our drinks and wondering why I don’t give a shit about any of it.”

“That doesn’t sound like you at all,” Brian said. “You were that in love with him you kept putting school off?”

“Most days we barely even liked each other,” she said. “I just got so broken down, you know? When you’re the only one who believes in you, you start to feel crazy, so you look to the people around you for help. And any time I’d talk about going to school or moving to a bigger city, he’d tell me all the ways I’d hate it or fail at it. He was so happy to remind me of all the reasons I was too small for the rest of the world.”

“Well, you’re not,” Brian said. “He was just scared of losing you, the piece of shit.”

Sadie shrugged. “I’m happy to report that my thought process and self-esteem have vastly improved since then.”

“I’m glad,” he said. “Seriously, Sadie, based on what I’m hearing, you must have done some heavy lifting to be who you are now, and that’s pretty awesome.”

“Thanks, Brian,” she said softly. “Anyway, that’s all she wrote. I’m not like damaged or anything. Not that it matters, since I’m leaving on Sunday. But I just wanted you to know that I like you because you’re you and not because you’re not him.”

“Come here,” he said, taking hold of her hand and pulling her closer to him so that she was tucked against his side. They sat in easy silence until he laughed. “I mean, I’m definitely a mess, but I still wish you weren’t leaving on Sunday.”

She took a sip of wine and willed herself not to ask what would happen if she stayed. No matter how happy this buzz was or how soft his arms were, her days of staying put for men were over.

“Me too,” she said. “I’ll save my pennies and come back someday.”

“Can’t wait,” he said. “Unless by then you’ve moved to a big city and met a fireman with four cats. My arch nemesis.”

“Time will tell,” Sadie smiled. “And who knows, maybe you’ll meet a smiley prairie girl who doesn’t make you sit outside in thunderstorms.”

“Hmm, nope, doesn’t sound like my type,” he smiled back.

Sadie let a laugh slip that sounded an awful like a stupid smitten giggle so she compensated by downing the last of her wine. “Hey, your glass is empty,” she said, peering into his glass. “So is mine. Want me to get us some refills?” She didn’t wait for an answer as she untangled her legs and arms from his and took his glass. She smiled over her shoulder before she disappeared into the kitchen.

By herself in the kitchen, Sadie took a moment to gather her hair on top of her head and breathe. She was overheated and breathless and flustered and she just needed a second to get her shit together. When she’d calmed the tremble in her hands, she opened the fridge to pull out the bottle of white wine, but before she could find it, the door was closed and she was up against the counter and Brian’s lips were on hers.

The wine forgotten, Sadie wrapped her arms around his neck as he bent her backwards over the counter. This wasn’t a kiss that would be interrupted by songs or storms ending; it wasn’t even a kiss. It was the start of the night.

Brian nudged her legs apart with his knee and she let him, pressing herself against his thigh. His hands went from holding her face to grasping her waist to cupping her ass, causing her to arch forward against him, and his mouth followed its way down the curve of her neck. Gasping when his lips found the sweet spot on her neck, she felt her legs go cold and her stomach tighten.

He took that gasp as an invitation to drag his teeth along her jawline and nip at her ear with handfuls of her dress balled in his grip. Her fingers hooked into his belt loops and held on tight as his hands roamed up her dress and groped her breasts, his movements rough and desperate but his touch gentle and deep.

As her hands slipped under his shirt and her fingernails scraped up his back, Brian let out a breathless sound of breaking in her ear, straightened up, took his knee away, kissed her sigh of protest, and shoved up her dress and used one hand to grab a handful of her hair while the other pulled her underwear down to her thighs. With her legs shaking, Sadie felt so out of control she almost wanted to pull away, but his hand in her hair held her right where she was and all she could do was let him take it from there.

“What do you think?” Brian mumbled, his hand slipping between her legs, his fingers stroking the slit but not entering.

Sadie nodded, turning her face into his hand as he let go of her hair and lined her jaw with his thumb. “Come on.”

And then his fingers were inside of her, two right off the fucking bat, his middle finger and his ring finger, knuckle-deep and moving slowly at first until she ground down on his hand, which he took as explicit permission to pick it the fuck up. Pressing his forehead down against her temple, he quickened the pace, fast and hard, and with his staccato breathing in her ear, she could hardly keep herself standing.

From experience she knew her brain was going to take over and he was going to get tired of trying to please her and then it would be her turn to please him and he’d come and she wouldn’t. But instead, immediately, this started going someplace she’d never gone and she didn’t know what to do, didn’t know how to let go, wasn’t ready, and then he swore and kissed her neck and her body took over, her legs spreading and her knee coming up and her foot pressing into his shin to keep her balance as everything in her buckled. She bucked up into his hand and his fingers fucked her at their relentless speed, their motion riding her waves with determination. His fingers pumping built something in her that was about to topple, and she threw her head back and lost her grip on him. He raised his free hand to hold the back of her head and press her against his chest as his fingers fucked faster and deeper. It was the noises he was making that did it, that had her foundation crumbling, hearing him lose control, gasping and breathing with choppy little moans every time he picked up the pace.

“Fuck fuck—” she whispered, her breath coming out in a strangled scream, her entire body shaking as his thumb rubbed over her clit, and then her fists balled up and her arms tightened around him and her legs gave out and something in her broke down and she came so hard her head hurt and her skin burned. She didn’t even know if she made a noise but she did know he did and she held on for dear life through the aftershocks and then she kissed him because holy fuck. Holy fuck.

“Holy fuck,” she breathed, arms still around him while her chest heaved and her head spun.

Brian brought both arms around her in return and chuckled, out of breath. “Holy fuck,” he agreed.

“Jesus,” she whispered. She tried to laugh it off but she was too rattled.

“You good?” he asked. “You’re shaking like a leaf.”

“I’m amazing,” she said. “Let’s go the fuck upstairs.”


	5. i am writing graffiti on your body, drawing the story of how hard we tried

So hand in hand they did, Brian giving Sadie a rushed, giddy tour as they climbed the stairs and hurried down the hall and found themselves in his bedroom, both of them laughing and peeling clothes off as they faced each other. The rain had found its fury again and it pelted the window as Sadie unbuttoned his flannel and he lifted her dress over her head. 

Neither were proud of their bodies but there was something about the other that made them both brazen. Want flickered in his eyes and a helpless laugh rumbled in his throat as he bit his lip and took in the sight of her standing before him in her underwear, and she couldn’t take the look on his face anymore so she pushed the shirt off his shoulders and let her hand roam up his chest and over his heart to hold his face and kiss him. 

Brian knew what he was doing, Sadie would give him that. He could probably write the book on the maddening balance between sweet and biting, sharp and healing, soft and bruising, and she would stay up all night to see how this ended. She whispered _please_ before she could stop herself. 

When he responded by unhooking her bra, she unbuckled his jeans. 

Sadie held onto his elbows for balance as he stepped out of his jeans and kicked them out of the way, and then she slipped her arms through her bra straps and gave him a cheeky smirk and sank to her knees. Brian held his breath as she went down on him, one hand going to her hair while he formed a fist and covered his mouth with the other. His hips rocked gently to her rhythm, muttering _Jesus_ when her eyes met his and he felt her smile proudly. 

She drew back, her hand replacing her mouth. “Yeah?”

“Fuck yeah,” he moaned, his hand now going to the back of his neck as she went down on him again. His balls tightened and his breath hitched, and he rode it out for as long as he could before he bent and took her face in his hands to stop her. “Tonight’s gonna end fast if you keep that up, sweetheart.”

She stood, both of them taking a moment to laugh when her knees cracked. “Ow,” she giggled. “Maybe that’s a sign I’m too old for first-date blow jobs.”

Brian laughed. “I’ll get you a pillow next time.”

“See?” she grinned, stretching her arms around his shoulders, crossing her wrists behind his head. “Such a gentleman.”

“Yeah, we’ll see about that,” he said, kissing her as his hands snaked up her bare back, and he could talk tough all he wanted but he was gentle through and through, even as he backed her down onto the bed and pulled her panties down and tossed behind him, then kneeled and buried his face between her legs. 

Breathing catching in her throat, Sadie grabbed handfuls of his hair while he ate her out, his arms wrapped around her thighs to keep her where he wanted her. She felt that precarious sensation of something about to topple building and building until suddenly, with an apologetic, frantic, muttered _holy fuck,_ Brian got off the floor, got on top of her, took his cock in his hand, shoved aside one of her legs with one of his, and entered her. 

She yelped at the sharpness and fullness, but her hands went to his hip bones, urging him forward. His body flush with hers, he pressed the bridge of his nose against the side of her face — not to kiss, just to be close — and tried out a gentle rhythm, groaning when she rolled her hips to meet his thrusts. “Oh my God,” he mumbled, his consonants smeared, closing his eyes when she threaded her fingers through his hair and kissed his shoulder. 

“Yeah,” she said, barely a word. 

“This okay?” he whispered.

“Good,” she whispered back, pressing her heels into his back. 

“Harder?”

“Hard as you can.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Brian pushed himself up so that he was on his knees, then took hold of one of her ankles in his hand. He ran the other hand through his hair as he looked down at her, spread beneath him, the view almost too much to take, and then took a deep breath, gathered himself and pounded her into the bedsheets. 

She reacted immediately, her eyes squeezing shut and her chin lifting, exposing her neck as she draped an arm across her face, not thinking of anyone else, certainly not the people who’d never loved her, not the ones who’d made her the way she was — just him. Just him and the brush of his eyelashes and the weight of his body and the freckles on his shoulders. Her toes curled, her free leg wrapped around his back and trembling against his skin. Her fingers grasped at the sheets, her teeth bit down on her lip but she couldn’t stop the noises deep in her throat, lofty and hollow and nothing but jumbled letters. Her pelvis lifted to meet his thrusts, and her back arched and her chest heaved and her body shook.

He gave her all he could, hard and deep and fast, pushing himself past his own strength and limits until his thighs gave out and he fell forward onto his forearms. He continued to fuck her as hard as he could, the speed and friction and the tightness and her breathless _oh oh oh_ s pulling him closer and closer to orgasm than he wanted to be, so he slid a hand between their bodies putting his weight onto his left forearm as his right hand covered her clit and rubbed. 

She let out a broken noise that was close to a shout so he kept going, and when her entire body jerked upwards and her leg spasmed and her hand grabbed onto his wrist and he felt an aftershock go through her that went straight to his balls, he fell forward onto his elbows, his thrusts becoming sporadic and shaky, and voice strangled, he blurted, “I’m gonna come, I’m, where—”

“Just come just come just come,” she blurted back. 

Burrowing his face into her neck, he came hard, all the air going out of his lungs. They panted in silence, both soaked with sweat, and once the room stopped spinning, he pulled out and rolled over onto his back. 

Lightning flashed and she laughed. He turned his head to look at her, worried for only a split second that maybe she was laughing at his pathetic attempt to give her pleasure, but then he saw the look on her face and he smiled too. She was happy. 

“What on earth,” she laughed, turning on her side to face him, dumbstruck wonder in her eyes. 

He laughed back, pulling on her elbow and causing her to fall on top of his chest. He draped his arm over her back and kissed the top of her head. “You’re telling me.”

“Haven’t done that in awhile,” she said with a sigh of contentment. 

“What, had sex?”

“No, had someone else make me come.”

“Really?” He grinned. “Well.”

She laughed, and he held her tighter, his heart swelling at the feel of her laughter reverberating against his chest. “Maybe I just needed to fuck an American.”

“Glad to be of service,” he chuckled. 

“Like, I’m pretty sure my legs don’t work anymore,” she said. “I think you broke me.”

“What a shame,” he said. “I guess you’ll just have to stay right here.”

“Shucks,” she laughed. Her smile fell as they lay there and his heartbeat slowed, and her sigh came out a shaky shudder, because now she’d gone and fucked it up. Now there was no turning back, when, come Sunday, backwards was the only direction she could go. 

“Hey, are you—” Brian looked up at the ceiling, feeling absurd, because suddenly he was shy. “Were you wanting to go back to your place tonight, or did you want to just… stay here…?”

“I mean.” Sadie chuckled. “I brought my toothbrush.”

“Okay,” he smiled. “Good.”

“I won’t even ask you to get me bagels,” she said, lifting her head with a little smile when he uttered a startled guffaw. “Too soon?”

He shook his head. “You’re fucking uncouth,” he said fondly, and then took a closer look at her. “You okay?”

Sadie laughed softly, maybe a little drunk and maybe even a little tearful somewhere deep down, but mostly sad and happy and pissed off because she just fucking adored him. “If you break my heart, I swear to God, Brian Quinn...”

Brian looked at her, his smile coming out sad too. “We don’t have time for that,” he said.


	6. revelling, disheveling

Sadie found out that mornings in Brian’s kitchen really were the sunniest.

But first, she found out that he slept fitfully. He wasn’t a cuddler, but he kept his body close to hers through the night anyway. She found out if she rolled over onto her side, he moved over too, his shoulder or his hip or his hand always touching hers. She found out his bedroom window had a view of the bay, where water sparkled under the moon and city lights, a world away from the landlocked prairies waiting for her back at home. She found out you can’t trick time into staying still by staying awake.

And then she found out Brian woke up every day to three cats on his face (one of which rudely used her chest as a stepping stone to get to him, and that was when she found out what his first laugh of the day sounded like). She found out that he talked to them in a voice that was at least an octave and a half higher than his regular voice and that they followed him around like he was the pied piper as they had a full-on conversation all the way down the stairs.

As her heart cleaved in half from listening to him chattering away and feeding his herd of cats downstairs, Sadie sighed and forced herself to sit up in his bed and find her underwear and put them back on before she crawled back under the sheets and willed the morning to stay away. But sure enough, the sun was up and sparkling over the water and shining in a new day for a city that didn’t belong to her. She found out she could be happy anyway.

And then, when he came back upstairs in his boxers with his hair disheveled, she found out what Brian’s face looked like when he saw her in his bed on a sunny morning. She learned his mischievous smile, his slow crawl up the bed, his lips on her pulse. She memorized his huff of amused annoyance when he discovered she’d put her underwear back on, and before she knew it, they were on the floor again and she was on her back and under him.

Sadie found out that morning was his favourite time to have sex, sleepy and slow and sweet, and that she’d lost count of how many times he’d made her come since last night up against the kitchen counter, and that he was happy to remind her (five, or maybe six -- he couldn’t swear on one of them, but he’d been counting). She found out that maybe he wasn’t a cuddler while he slept, but in the morning, their bodies content and spent, he couldn’t let her go.

Even when his alarm went off, he held on, her head on his chest, her hair threaded through his fingers, her arm across his stomach. He hit snooze twice before he finally sighed and whispered he had to get up, and Sadie found out maybe he hadn’t been lying the night they’d met when he’d told her if he’d stayed the night with her there was no way in hell he’d get out of bed in the morning, because then he hit snooze for a third time and kissed her senseless.

When Brian eventually struggled out of bed and into the shower, Sadie slipped her dress back over her head and then slipped out of his bedroom, where she found out that the stairs creaked like banshees. She hadn’t noticed last night, with the storm raging and her heart racing and their hands fumbling. She padded down the hall and into the kitchen, bright and warm, where she found out how to work his coffee maker.

The littlest and most skittish of the cats was rubbing against her leg and breaking her heart when Brian joined her in the kitchen, fully dressed with his hair wet and a spring in his step. He kissed Sadie’s cheek and thanked her for making coffee and then she found out he took his with milk and two sugars like she did.

“I’d say we should drink these outside but I’m going to be late as hell,” he said, taking a gulp of his coffee and wincing at the heat. “Are you hungry?”

She smiled, hands wrapped around her mug and wishing she could just take comfort in the warmth and stop thinking about how this would probably be the last morning in her whole life she’d be in this kitchen, holding this mug, looking up at this man. “Coffee’s good,” she said. “I’m not a breakfast girl. I like to save myself for lunch.”

Brian smiled back. “Well, if you’re going back to the Strand today, there’s a good bagel shop across the street,” he said. “That way you won’t miss lunch again.”

And that was when Sadie found out no matter how much she dug her heels in, she would keep falling for him. She found out again when he made her take a granola bar just in case, and again when he calmly reasoned with his cats about why they couldn’t have more food, and then again when he asked her if she wanted more coffee, even though he was going to be late enough as it was.

She declined the coffee, already jittery, but she accepted his offer to drive her back to the place she was staying. She said goodbye to the cats, who crowded the door, not wanting them to go any more than Sadie did, and then glanced over her shoulder to get one more look at his home, in case it was the last time she was in it.

And then she climbed into his red jeep and found out his air freshener was pine and that her seat was pushed way back because the only passenger he ever had was Sal and Sal was a real diva about his leg room. She found out how to move her seat forward when Brian reached over and pulled the lever for her, his hand sweeping swiftly under her legs and sending goosebumps over her entire body.

She found out Brian could drive stick and that she could barely restrain herself from telling him to pull the fuck over so she could bang him in the backseat. When he handed her his phone and told her she could pick the music if there was anything she liked, she found out he was a fan of 80s rock and 90s rap and that, in addition to the dozens of earnest songs about falling in love in middle America in his possession, he also had Taylor Swift’s _1989_ in its entire contagious glory. She pressed play on track one and watched the smile spread over his face and found out he knew every word to “Welcome to New York.”

Leaving Staten Island and heading over the Brooklyn Bridge and into a clusterfuck of traffic, Sadie found out Brian was good about letting people merge ahead of him but Jersey drivers made him curse up a blue streak. She found out he was the kind of man who put a protective arm across her when he had to suddenly slam on his brakes, and she asked him questions about Brooklyn to stop herself from thinking what it would be like to take a road trip with him that ended in them going home to the same place.

Despite the early morning crush of traffic, it wasn’t long enough before Brian pulled up in front of her building. Jeep idling, music quiet, they sat and talked about the next two days -- Brian was filming in Jersey today and tomorrow and Sadie had grand plans to wander. When Brian received his fourth text demanding where the hell he was, they made their plans for Friday and Saturday and didn’t talk at all about Sunday. And then it was time to go.

Sadie kept her eyes closed even after he’d kissed her. She couldn’t bear to find out what he looked like when he said goodbye.

+

Brian lost every challenge on Wednesday and Thursday. He didn’t know what was wrong with him, but he couldn’t get his head in the game. The guys knew it too, gleefully taking advantage of his bumbling bullshit by feeding him lines he wouldn’t be able to say even on his best days.

“It’s not worth it,” Sal told him as they stood side by side in front of the monitors while Joe and Murr got ready to take their turn together in a head-to-head challenge.

“Sure it is,” Brian said, putting his iced tea down and pulling his wallet out. “My money’s on Murr.”

“No, I’m not talking about them,” Sal said, rolling his eyes at the twenty dollar bill Brian had pulled out of his wallet. “I’m talking about you, you Eeyore son of a bitch. You’ve been moping around for the last two days and I’m sorry if you didn’t get to touch a tit but we’ve got a show to do here so you need to snap out of it.”

Brian gave him a dirty look. “We’re mic’d, you asshole.”

“So? It’s not like they can’t tell.”

Brian’s look got dirtier. “That I didn’t _touch a tit_?”

Sal opened his package of macarons and popped one in his mouth. “Among other things.”

“You’re such an idiot.”

“I’m not an idiot, I just don’t want to lose when it’s our turn because my partner struck out with some random _Canadian_.”

“I didn’t strike out with her,” Brian snapped. “That’s what you guys have been saying?”

Sal’s face lit up. “You didn’t?”

“No.”

Sal slapped Brian’s shoulder, grinning even when Brian scowled at him. “I was so worried! Q, that’s awesome!”

“Worried?”

“Well yeah,” Sal said. “I was worried maybe it didn’t work out, and that would’ve sucked because you were really into each other.”

Brian crossed his arms over his chest, eyes glued to the monitor. “Oh.”

“The other night, at the bar, you two -- it’s been awhile since I’ve seen you like that,” Sal said, tentative. Sal had seen Brian a lot of ways over the years, more than the other two had. He was no stranger to Brian’s lows, but was scared of them, and he tended to hold his breath whenever something good came his friend’s way, because it was as important to Sal he get it as it was to Q. “I’m glad it worked out.”

“It’s not going to work out, though,” Brian said, with one of his dark little smirks. “I have a hard enough time with relationships as it is; I can fucking forget a long distance one. I can’t do that shit.”

Sal shrugged, as if this were no more a problem than a fly buzzing in the room. “Ask her to stay.”

“She’s from a different country, man, it’s not that easy.”

Sal wasn’t stupid; he knew that. There was no point in getting Brian’s hopes up. “So you’re not going to see her again?”

“I didn’t say that.”

Sal nodded. What was he supposed to say to that? _Don’t_ ? He had to. _Good?_ He shouldn’t. Either way, it was the wrong thing to do, and they both knew it.

“Okay,” Sal said, and offered him a macaron.

Brian took one but didn’t eat it. “Anyway,” he said. “That’s why I keep losing.”

Sal put a hand on his shoulder. They stood in silence, watching the monitor, even though nothing was happening yet. Finally, Joe and Murr appeared on the screen, each with a balloon in hand. Sal smiled at the sound of Brian’s laugh next to him -- few sounds in the world made Sal feel better.

“Look at this moron,” Brian giggled, pointing at Joe as he sucked his stomach in and out to hide the balloon. “How does he _do_ that?”

Sal cackled; that was what Sal was expected to do. He pulled his wallet out. “Okay, I’m in,” he said, fishing out a twenty and waving it around.

Brian smiled over at him and put his twenty down next to Sal’s. “All right.”

“My money’s on Joe,” Sal said, even though really, at the end of the day, it was always on Q.

+

Sadie’s feet were killing her but she couldn’t stop pacing.

New York was magic, just like she’d known it would be. She’d spent the last two days wandering up and down Manhattan, stopping in flea markets and holes in the wall, buzzed on coffee and eating her weight in pizza and bagels and cheesecake. She saw the view from the top of the Rockefeller Centre, aching as she looked out at the burroughs and the ocean, and she saw a country band at Johnny Utah’s, and she saw kindness and a million happy dogs and people in love, and all of it felt like home. She didn’t like that. Because none of it was.

She kept herself unstopping and distracted on Wednesday and Thursday so she couldn’t be sad. She could be sad when she got home. While she was here, in this city she’d saved up for for years, walking strong on her own for the first time in even longer, she was not going to be sad. She wasn’t in love. He was just like this city, drawing her in and lighting her up and making her feel like she could have anything she’d ever wished for. It wasn’t home, and neither was he.

She’d done a good job of convincing herself it was no big deal, it was going to be fine, it didn’t have to matter any more than she let it, so it didn’t make sense that she was pacing her room, thoughts racing. It was late Thursday night. She should just go to sleep. Get off her feet and turn off her brain. But she couldn’t settle down, listening to a cacophony of traffic and songs that reminded her of home while chewing on her thumbnail and walking in circles on sore feet around her borrowed room.

 _Give it one more song and then go to bed_ , she told herself, and then her phone rang.

Tears nearly sprang to her eyes, because she knew it would be her mother, who would have no doubt picked up on the sadness buried underneath Sadie’s polite messages sent to reassure. She hadn’t told her mom about anything other than the pretty views and the new books and dresses she’d bought, but she knew as soon as she picked up and heard her mom ask if the trip was going well, she wouldn’t be able to stop herself from telling her about the man who had sat down beside her at the park and hadn’t left her mind since.

But when she crossed her room and picked her phone up from the kitchen counter, she saw that it wasn’t her mom on the caller ID. Sadie was too happy to even smile as put it to her ear and answered, “Hello?”

“Hey,” Brian said, sounding as relieved as she felt. “I wasn’t sure if you’d still be up.”

“I’m up,” she said, and finally sat down. She pressed her back up against the fridge as she sat criss-cross applesauce on the kitchen floor, the ache in her feet and her head and her heart vanishing. “I’m glad you called.”

“Really?” he asked, then stammered to cover up his surprise, and said, “I was just calling to see if you’re still on for tomorrow.”

She smiled. “Of course.”

“Okay, awesome,” Brian said. “I won’t keep you, I just wanted to make sure.”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” she said. “Early morning for you?”

“Stupid early,” he said, then in a bluster, added, “Sorry I didn’t check in the last couple days, the shoots went longer than they were supposed to and I was tired and grumpy.”

“That’s okay,” Sadie told him. “I’m sorry I didn’t check in either, I was just --” She laughed, because there was something about him that made her always want to tell the truth. “I was trying not to think about you.”

Brian laughed too, and didn’t sound any happier than she did. “Did it work?”

“Nah.”

“Me neither,” he chuckled.

Sadie’s finger traced along the grout of the floor tiles. “Tuesday was good.”

“It was very good,” he agreed.

“In more ways than one,” she said.

“Yeah, if I recall, it was something like five or six,” Brian said, and then laughed at his own goddamn joke. “Right?”

Sadie laughed too. “Yeah, yeah,” she grumbled, a grin on her face. “So proud of yourself.”

“Well, I mean,” he said. “Yeah.”

She sighed, and then laughed all over again. “You should be.”

“Likewise,” Brian said. “I’ll have you know I lost every challenge we did yesterday and today largely due to the fact that I couldn’t stop replaying specific moments over and over in my head.”

She smirked, wishing he were here. “They’re probably similar to the specific moments I kept replaying in mine.”

“I don’t know,” Brian said, his voice both gritty and smiling. “You didn’t get to see the look in your eyes when you were going down on me and you looked up.”

“Oh, is that what did it for you?” she asked. “For me, it was when _you_ were going down on _me_ and when you came up for air, your eyelashes were wet. That’s how you know a boy knows how to eat a pussy.”

“Oh my God,” he laughed, flustered. “Well, thanks, now I have a boner.”

“Yeah, me too,” she chuckled. “Another thing I’m trying not to think about.”

“It’s not easy,” he said. “But it wasn’t just that.”

“What wasn’t?”

“Tuesday,” he said. “It wasn’t just the sex.”

“No, I know.” Sadie hugged her knees to her chest. “I know it wasn’t.”

“It was a lot.”

“Yes, it was.”

Brian took awhile to say anything, and when he did, his voice was full of gravel and she could just imagine him sitting with his hand on his face. “You’re going to be gone in three days, and I don’t know what I’m going to do next time there’s a thunderstorm.”

Her heart broke, but all she said was, “Go sit outside.”

“I will,” he chuckled. He stopped to yawn, which made her yawn too. “Sorry. Long day.”

“It’s okay,” she whispered.

“Anyway, I’m just saying, it sucks that you won’t be there,” he said. “Not just during storms.”

She nodded, unsure of what to say. It wasn’t her job to cheer anybody up, especially not someone who had everything. She was the one going home to nothing. What could she possibly say to him? Don’t worry, you’ll meet another tourist on Monday?

But that wasn’t fucking true -- not only did he make her want to be honest, he also made her want to be kind. To him, yes, but also to herself, and that meant, all of a sudden, that she couldn’t brush herself off like she usually did. For the first time in years, she believed her absence would matter, and she was sorry he would be sad.

Finally, she said, “I know,” and smiled when she heard him sigh on the other end of the line, and then she laughed, “This really could have been something.”

Brian was silent on his end. Sadie didn’t worry about what he was thinking.

“Goddamn our fucking lucky stars,” she laughed. “This is going to suck.”

“Yep,” he said, sounding tired and far away.

“But until then, it’ll be great,” Sadie told him. Promised him. “It’ll be the best. We’ve got three whole days.”

“Two,” he said. “You leave on Sunday.”

She frowned. “Actually, one and a half. I won’t see you till tomorrow night.”

“I could come out there right now,” he said. “I’d be there in under an hour.”

Sadie was shocked when _yes_ wasn’t what came out of her mouth. “It’s midnight,” she said softly. “And you have an early morning.”

“Fuck sleep.”

Sadie laughed at his sleepy indignation. “You’re yawning up a storm over there,” she told him. “The last thing our doomed romance needs is you falling asleep behind the wheel.”

Brian yawned, and they both laughed over it. “You have a point.”

“But,” she said, “since it’s after midnight, that means I’ll see you later today.”

“I like the sounds of that,” he said, and then was quiet for long enough that Sadie wondered if he’d dozed off. “Hey.”

“Hmm?”

Brian cleared his throat, and took another long moment before he spoke. “Is this stupid?”

“Yes.”

“Yeah,” he said. “We’re gonna do it anyway?”

“Yep.”

“Okay,” he said. “Good.”


	7. and i'm tangled up as tightly as i dare

Long legs played out and crossed at the ankle, head down and thumbs scrolling through his phone, Brian looked like everyone else here at Washington Square Park soaking up the last of today’s kind sun, except for the part where he made Sadie’s heart skip a beat. She walked a little faster when she spotted him, biting down a smile, and plopped down next to him on the exact bench where they’d met four days ago.

“Of all the benches in all the parks,” Sadie said, and giggled when he turned to her and lit up and tackled her with a bear hug, knocking her back with such force that she swung her leg up and had to throw her arms around his neck to keep her balance. “--you meet me on this one.”

Thrilled, Brian pulled back, slinging an arm over her shoulders and placing a hand on her leg, getting a look at her like he was drinking her in. “I know how to pick em.”

“Can’t argue with that,” she chirped, and settled into the crook of his arm. “Hello.”

“Hi,” he replied, kissing the side of her head. “Come here often?”

“Nah, just when you’re here.”

Brian laughed, his hand rubbing up and down her arm. “How are you? You excited for the play?”

“So excited,” she said. “Sorry in advance if I cry.”

“I teared up during the _Spongebob_ musical,” he said. “So you’re in good company.”

“I’ll say,” she smiled. “Should we get going?”

“Sure,” he said, but made no move to get up. “Hey, before we go, I just wanted to apologize for the bummer phone call last night.”

“Oh,” Sadie said, turning her head to look up at him. The early evening sun was turning his dark eyes gold, and he looked like he hadn’t shaved since the last time she’d seen him. She wanted to nuzzle into him. “You don’t have to.”

“I was bummed out and I wanted to talk to you before bed because I knew if I didn’t, I’d be up all night,” he said with a shrug. “I didn’t mean to bring you down during your trip.”

“You didn’t, Brian,” she told him.

“You sounded sad.”

“Of course I did,” she said. “Because I was. But don’t for one second think you’ve brought me down -- are you crazy? Do you really not know how wonderful this trip has been and how much you’ve had to do with it?”

He braved a look at her. “Yeah?”

Sadie laughed and rolled her eyes. “ _Yes_.” She shook her head. “I was only sad because you’re lovely. Don’t fucking apologize for that.”

He kissed her, his _sorry_ turning into _thank you_ with her face in his hands. He broke away and kissed her forehead. “Let’s make the most of this weekend, then.”

“That’s the plan,” she said, relieved that she sounded sturdier than she felt. “Shall we?”

“Yeah,” he said as he got to his feet and helped her to hers. “Have you eaten?”

“Nope, I was hoping we could eat together,” Sadie said, and was happy he hadn’t let go of her hand as they began to stroll through the park towards the exit. “Unless you’ve already eaten, in which case you’re going to have to watch me snarf down a hot dog.”

“I already have,” he said with a leer, laughing and feigning injury when she elbowed him. “Yeah, I could eat. What are you in the mood for?”

“This, mostly,” she said, giving his hand a squeeze. “Could we just walk until we pass something that tickles our fancy?”

He squeezed her hand back. “Lead the way.”

“No, you lead the way,” she said as they reached the end of the park and found themselves on a busy sidewalk. “Why would I lead the way? I don’t know where the fuck I’m going.”

Brian laughed, slipping his hand out of hers to throw an arm around her shoulder and direct her body in the opposite direction. “Come on.”

Sadie was happy to follow Brian’s lead. She’d spent so long being told where to go and what to do and how to be, and her fierce independence was a result of breaking free of that, but for a moment, it was nice to have a gentle hand guiding the way. They walked up Fifth Avenue, saying they’d hop in a cab after they found something to eat, but were too distracted by each other to remember that they were hungry.

On their walk, Sadie gushed to Brian about seeing _Waitress_ on Wednesday, including the part about how “She Used to be Mine” had been the catalyst that had convinced her to leave her ex, and to hear it in this city made her feel like she belonged to herself again. She did, however, leave out the part where she’d sat at a coffee shop for an hour after the play channeling sweet, broken Jenna, writing down the ingredients she needed to make the life she wanted.

“Did you hear the line you liked about the hug?” Brian asked.

“I did,” Sadie smiled, but her heart hurt when he responded by holding her tighter.

If he noticed, he didn’t let on. “So, seems to me you’re a giant musical theatre nerd,” he said. “Were you a drama geek in school?”

“Oh God no,” Sadie said. “I was a band geek. In the safety of my bedroom, you can rest assured I was singing everyone’s parts from the _Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat_ soundtrack, but at school, I was so fucking shy.”

He grinned over at her. “I would’ve had such a crush on you.”

“No you wouldn’t,” she laughed. “You wouldn’t have noticed me in a million years.”

“Noticed you on Monday,” he countered.

Sadie didn’t bother to stop her moonstruck snicker. “Whatever,” she grumbled with a grin. “What were you like in high school? I bet you were super popular.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah,” she said. “Like, I was the basketcase in _The Breakfast Club,_ and you were probably Emilio Estevez _._ ”

He laughed, hearty enough that the people walking ahead of them looked back and smiled at the sound of it. “I was Brian.”

“You mean because that’s your name or because you were a nerd?”

“I was a musical theatre geek.”

“Get the fuck out of here.”

“I was also in the marching band,” he laughed.

“Ugh, goddammit,” she said. “I would’ve had a crush on you too.”

“Thank you,” he smiled. “Although if we’re being completely honest, I did it as a way to meet girls.”

“I don’t have a crush on you anymore.” She burst out laughing and tried to shrug him off as he pulled her closer and kissed her cheek, then gave up and settled into it. “Just kidding, I’m aflutter as fuck.”

“Aflutter as fuck,” Brian repeated, looking down at her with delight and wonder, against a backdrop of neon and marquees and city lights, and he was so goddamn lit up Sadie could hardly stand to look at him so she kissed him instead.

“Against my better judgement,” Sadie whispered, on her tiptoes with her knees shaking.

“Fuck your better judgement,” he whispered back, hands on her waist.

“Brian,” she scolded, disentangling from his arms. She crinkled her nose up at him and conjured her sunniest smile, then backed away. “Can I buy you a hot dog?”

“Did I say something wrong?” he asked, following after her as she walked up to a vendor.

“You think I’d offer to buy you a hot dog if you said something wrong?” she asked, taking her place in line.

“I’m not an idiot,” Brian said, taking his place beside her. “What did I say?”

Sadie smiled up at him as best she could, even though the best she could do was press her lips together in something that came out sad. “Nothing wrong,” she said. “Something sweet.”

“...Okay.” Brian looked at her, at a loss. He let his arms fall to his side helplessly as she stepped forward to give the vendor her order.

“Can I get two hot dogs please?” she asked, then grimaced. She looked at Brian. “Wait, no, I’ll just eat both of them. I’m getting two for me. You want two for you?”

Brian returned the smile, reaching for his wallet. “Please.”

“Put your money away.” Sadie turned back to the vendor. “Could I make that four?”

“Thanks,” Brian said when she stood next to him off to the side while they waited for their food.

“I should have taken you somewhere fancier,” she said, suddenly fidgety and fretting.

“You should have taken me somewhere fancier?” he chuckled, incredulous.

“You bought the tickets for the play,” she said. “I was going to get dinner but I panicked and saw hot dogs so I got hot dogs.”

“I’m happy with hot dogs,” he said. “This is great.”

Sadie turned her eyes up to him with a crooked smile, and then the vendor called out that their food was ready. They found a place to sit along the edge of a fountain, where Sadie was happy to have Brian’s thigh pressed against hers again, even though her knee was jumping with jitters.

“Why’d you panic?” Brian asked between bites.

“Oh my God,” Sadie moaned, mouth full of her first bite. “Even the hot dogs are enchanted in New York.”

Brian looked at her sideways and laughed. “Do you need a minute?”

“Maybe just one of your napkins.”

He passed her one. Then he calmly reached out a hand to place over her knee and held it there until it stopped bouncing, and then he went back to eating. “So?”

She spread the napkin over her legs so she wouldn’t drip mustard on her dress. “So what?”

“You said you panicked,” Brian said. “Why?”

Sadie chewed thoughtfully while she weighed her response. “I’ve been doing a lot of things against my better judgement lately,” she said. “Ending a relationship everyone told me to stay in. Booking a flight to a city everyone told me was too big for me. Following a stranger to a dive bar five minutes after meeting him.”

Brian took that in. “Those all turned out to be good decisions.”

“They did,” she said. “Wonderful, in fact.”

He watched her, tried to read her so he could anticipate the blow that came next. But she was stoic and soft, and when she met his eye, she wasn’t sorry.

“So when you’ve got your arms around me and you’re making me feel like a million bucks and you tell me to fuck my better judgement, I panic,” she said. “Because that’s what I keep doing. And this time, I can’t.”

Brian nodded. They ate quietly, until finally, he said, “I mean, I’m not sitting here kidding myself.”

Sadie looked at him with one of the saddest smiles he’d ever seen. “I am.”

+

On September 11, 2001, thirty-eight planes carrying six thousand travellers were diverted with no choice but to land in Gander, Newfoundland, Canada: population 9,651. _Come From Away_ was about the Canadians who played host to the world, opening their doors to stranded strangers, giving them beds and music and an open bar and love they never knew existed.

Sadie and Brian watched, his arm around her shoulders, this story of countries colliding, listening to songs about sweethearts welcoming homesick strangers into their lives, their worlds changing over the course of five days of happenstance. Canadian kindness was in Sadie’s bones and American tragedy was in Brian’s, and for an hour and forty minutes, they laughed and cried about both, side by side, their own kind, tragic story nearing its end.

After the play, Brian told her what it was like to be in New York sixteen years ago, about the firefighters he knew who were at ground zero that day, and how much it had meant to him to stand beside them. In return, Sadie told him her favourite stories about growing up in small-town Canada, and the pride that came from its simplicity. There was an ease between them after the play, “Welcome to the Rock” still playing in their heads, comforted by the idea that sometimes people were just meant to meet.

Even though they’d walked all the way from Washington Square Park to the Schoenfeld Theatre, they were still restless and keen to keep going, and found themselves meandering down busy sidewalks hand-in-hand with the stars out and nowhere in particular to go. Sadie loved the chaos of the taxis honking their horns and music blaring through windows and people living their lives right in front of her, because this was their home and this was everything to them and she got to be part of it for a little while, and not only that, but she got to have this sturdy sweetheart beside her. She’d never felt so safe in her entire life.

When their feet started to hurt, they popped inside a comedy club hosting amateur night, which was even divier than the bar they’d gone to their first night. It wasn’t busy for a Friday, so they staked out a table at the back away from anyone else, sat on the same side of the booth, ordered a pitcher of beer, and waited for the first comedian while they talked with their lips brushing each other’s ears, laughter rumbling in their throats, trying but unable to keep their hands to themselves.

“Okay, here’s a good one,” Brian said, hooking his ankle around hers. “If you could have any superhero’s power, whose would it be and why?”

Sadie perched her chin on her hand, their bodies turned away from the table and facing each other. “Did you know that you bring up superheroes at least once every 45 minutes?”

“I’m aware,” he said. “Please answer the question so I can judge you.”

“Fine,” Sadie replied. “Zack Morris; the ability to stop time.”

Brian gawked at her. “Zack Morris isn’t a superhero!”

She scoffed. “Then how did he have the ability to stop time?”

“Beats me, but it was called _Saved by the Bell,_ not _Saved by the Zack.”_

“Maybe the bell was a metaphor.”

“Well, suffice it to say,” Brian said, “you’ve been judged.”

Sadie grinned. “Judge away,” she said, her thumb stroking his arm. “I’d ask you the same question but I already know the answer.”

Brian captured her hand and laced their fingers together. “Oh, you do?”

“The giant Superman tattoo on your fucking bicep is a bit of a give away.”

“Nice try, but no,” he said. “I gotta go with Nightcrawler.”

“Isn’t that a Jake Gyllenhaal movie about the paparazzi?”

“Yeah, but he’s also an X-Men character,” Brian said. “He can teleport.”

Sadie smiled. “Well, between your power and mine, I’d say we have a shot.”

Brian smiled back and tucked her hair behind her ear. “Your turn.”

“Hmm.” Sadie sipped her beer while she pondered. “What are you scared of?”

“Spiders.”

“Oh no, me too,” she said. “So much for us having a shot. If a spider got in, neither of us could deal with it.”

“That’s why I have three cats, Sadie.”

Sadie finger-gunned at him. “Brilliant,” she said, even though she knew entertaining the idea that they had any chance come Monday was just making this worse. “Your turn.”

“All right, let me think,” Brian said, gently tracing the seam on Sadie’s dress, and then lifted his gaze, smiling dazedly as he watched her eyes follow the trail of his finger along her thigh. “If you could live in any movie universe, what would it be?”

She looked up at him, bright and excited. “Middle Earth!”

“You were ready for that one,” he laughed. “Like from _Lord of the Rings?_ ”

“You fucking know it,” she replied. “You?”

“ _Ghostbusters,_ ” he said. “I’m obsessed.”

“Really? I’ve never seen it.”

He seized her shoulders with both hands, utterly scandalized. “How can you call yourself a child of the 80s?”

She laughed. “Unhand me,” she said, and when he did, she leaned in closer with a smile that drew him right back in. “Guess we’ll just have to watch it before I leave.”

“Guess so,” he huffed.

It was hard to take his grumpy face seriously when he had a beer moustache, so she kissed him and grinned when she felt him do the same. She pulled back, her smile inches from his mouth, and then he nipped her bottom lip between his teeth and she gasped, shocked and delighted, and kissed him back with just as much bite.  

“You’re killing me here,” he said between kisses, his laugh breathless.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she said, uncrossing her wrists from behind his neck and folding her hands primly over her knees, giggling when he intertwined their fingers and kissed the back of her hand. “Okay, if you were a ghost, where would you haunt?”

“Good one,” Brian said. He took a swig of his beer, brow knitted as he contemplated her question. “I can haunt anywhere in the world?”

“You can haunt anywhere in the world that you’ve _been_ to,” Sadie said. “You can’t go haunt penguins in Antarctica or something.”

“Okay, I’d haunt Sal,” Brian said. “Scaring him brings me joy.”

Sadie laughed. “He’s probably the one who murdered you to begin with.”

“I probably deserved it,” Brian laughed back. “How about you?”

“I’d be boring and haunt a library.”

“That’s not boring; you’d get to read books while scaring people and getting them in trouble for being noisy,” he said. “I see you too are a villain.”

“Yep,” she smiled, her body going pliant as he put a hand on her face and pulled her close and kissed her cheek. She didn’t care if they were making a spectacle of themselves; she pressed into him and wished they were alone while also hoping everyone could see them together.

“In that same vein,” he said, lips brushing her temple as he spoke, “name three things you haven’t done but want to do before you die?”

Sadie finished off her beer, dizzy and happy, her skin buzzing from his touch. “Off the top of my head?”

“Yeah, first three things you can think of.”

She counted down from three on her fingers. “See a tornado in person, publish a book, have sex in public,” she said. “Not necessarily in that order.”

Brian’s eyes went wide, his eyebrows high. Speechless, he leaned forward, elbow on the table, hand going to his face while he grinned helplessly.

“My turn,” Sadie said, taking great pleasure in watching him wrestle with how turned on he was. “Say the world’s going to end in one hour. Where do you go?”

“Give me a _minute_ ,” he laughed, his grin deepening when she giggled. “Okay, I assume it’ll take me more than an hour to get to you,” he said once he’d composed himself, and then shrugged when she nodded. “All right, again, I gotta go to Sal’s.”

“Adorable. Why Sal?”

“He’s sat with me more than once when I’ve felt like the world was ending,” Brian said. “If it ever actually does end, it’s only fair he’s got company too.”

Sadie frowned. She didn’t know what to say to that. She laid her head on his shoulder.

Brian laughed, eyeing her funny as he placed a hand on her knee. “What?”

She shook her head, willing her heart to keep it together. “You’re just a good egg, that’s all.”

“Thank you,” he said, and sounded like he meant it. “So piggybacking off your last question, you survived the end of the world and you’re the last person on the planet. What do you do?”

“That sounds like a nightmare,” Sadie said. “But I guess I’d go live in the woods to pull a Mowgli and make friends with all the animals.”

“You’d sing _Joseph and the Amazing Technicolour Dreamcoat_ songs with them, wouldn’t you?”

“At last, my time to shine,” she laughed. “What would you do?”

“I mean, I’d probably just do what I do now,” he said. “Watch Netflix and jerk off.”

Sadie raised an eyebrow as she lifted her head from his shoulder to smirk at him. “Is that what a night in the life of Brian looks like?”

“Are you surprised?”

“Well, kind of,” she admitted. “I mean, I imagine you could probably take your share of girls home who’d be happy to, uh -- lend a hand, so to speak.”

Brian grinned, forehead against hers. “You’re disgusting.”

She laughed, pressing back. “Yes.”

“That’s not really my style,” he said. “If I’m going to have sex with someone, I know there’s going to be a certain level of emotional attachment, for both parties, you know? And since I’m this miserable asshole, I’m not typically looking for any more emotions than I already have.”

“Well, thanks for braving emotions for me,” Sadie said, both genuine and teasing.

“You left me no choice.”

Sadie pulled back and studied his face, checking for sincerity. She found it.

The PA system crackled to life, announcing that the night was going to begin in a few moments, so everyone should grab their drinks and seats and settle in for the show.

“Do we need a refill?” Brian asked her, filling their pint glasses with what was left in the pitcher before his hand found its place on her leg.

“I’m good,” she said, her thoughts a million miles from comedy and the next drink. All she could think about was how hot and heavy his touch was and how much she wanted to feel more of it. “Really, you don’t do this often?”

“Do what?  _This_?” Brian gestured between the two of them. “God no.”

“I don’t mean this specifically,” she said. “I mean you don’t take advantage of the perks of fame? I know I goddamn would.”

“Well, sometimes, sure,” he said. “I’m not a fucking nun or anything.”

“Uh, yeah, I could tell,” she said, her hands going to the front of his shirt, fingers slipping between the buttons, touching skin. “On behalf of my vagina, I’d like to thank everyone who’s helped you hone your skills, because they be mighty.”

Brian beamed. “I mean, to be completely transparent, I’ve picked up some pointers from all the porn I watch.”

Sadie threw her head back to laugh, still holding on to the front of his shirt. There was something wildly attractive about a reserved man speaking so shamelessly about sex. “What kind are you into?”

“Honestly, I’m not picky,” he said, his grin sheepish but his hand confident as it moved up the inside of her thigh. “When you’ve been jerking off as long as I have, you stop searching for the holy grail.”

“I’m gonna embroider that on some hand towels for you.”

He laughed. “You’re sweet.”

“I thought you said I was disgusting.”

“You can be both.”

“Yeah?” She smiled and bit her lip, eyes locked on his. “Well, speaking of which, when the first comedian comes out, you wanna meet me in the bathroom?”

“Do I wanna what?”

“You heard me,” she said, kissing him before she slid out of the booth. “Up to you.”

“You -- oh my God.” Brian sputtered after her, rocking back in his seat as he watched her go. She moved through the club like she’d grown taller since he met her on Monday, like her spine was straighter and her shoulders didn’t hurt and she wasn’t afraid to hold her head high, walking like she knew anyone who followed her would be fucking lucky to catch up to her. She disappeared down the hall at the back where the bathrooms were, and he watched it to see if anyone else came out or went in. No one.

He looked at his watch -- the show was starting late; it should have started two minutes ago -- all the while shifting uncomfortably in his seat as his dick got harder. This was about as fucking stupid as it gets. Public figures don’t fuck girls in comedy clubs. Imagine if someone walked in and took a picture and put it online. He would just wait until she came back and he’d tell her they were getting the hell out of here and they’d jump in a cab back to her place where they could pick up where they left off. He absolutely could not follow her into that bathroom.

But then the emcee swept through the curtains onto the stage and hadn’t even introduced the first comedian when Brian stood up and knocked his hip against the table and swiftly crossed the room, barely casting a glance over his shoulder to see if anyone was watching before he eased the bathroom door open.

“Hey,” he whispered, hoping he didn’t look as sketchy as he felt as he stood in the doorway, one foot in and one foot out.

Sadie stood at the mirror, lipstick in hand, and smiled over at him. “Hey,” she said. “Come on in.”

He braved a peek around, sweating bullets. “Coast’s clear?”

She laughed, capped her lipstick, put it back in her bag, and turned so she had her back to the mirror. “Lock that and get over here.”

So he slipped inside, pushing the door shut with his shoulder and turning the lock, and approached her cautiously. “I’m here.”

“I’m glad,” she smiled, reaching out and taking hold of his shirt in a gentle but non-negotiable grip. “Hi.”

That was all the invitation Brian needed to get over his nerves, launching forward and crushing his lips to hers, his body following the curve of hers as she arched backwards. But she wasn’t content to be dominated tonight; she was on fucking fire in his arms and she wanted him to have to fight to put her out. She stood her ground as she kissed him back, grasping his erection through his jeans, delighted at the sound of surprise and pleasure he made at the touch of her hand.

Brian bumped into the paper towel dispenser and cursed, which made Sadie laugh, and her laugh made him kiss her jaw line. She responded immediately, catching his lips with her own as she grabbed him by the belt and pulled her against her. She felt him hard against her as he nudged her chin up so he could kiss his way from that place under her earlobe to that place between her collarbones, already knowing by heart the path to make her knees weak, his teeth scraping gently along the way and leaving a map of his favourite places. She hoped his kisses would bruise and she hoped they took weeks to fade.

“Should we--”

“Yeah,” Brian said, barely a word, flipping her around so her back was against his chest and her ass was against his hard-on. He grabbed fistfuls of her dress as he laid kisses to her neck and she grinded back on his dick and he panted in her ear, unabashed in how turned on he was, in how hot and hard he was. “Yeah, okay, fuck--” He drew back, whipping open his belt and undoing his jeans, frantic and fumbling, his hand throwing back the fabric of her dress to rub her clit through her tights, exhaling shakily when she inhaled sharply.

“Jesus Christ,” she hissed, reaching back to thread her fingers through his hair while she held herself up with her forearm on the counter.

“Goddammit, what the fuck are these,” he growled.

“Tights,” she laughed.

“I hate them,” he grumbled, struggling to work his hand beneath the fabric. “How the fuck--”

Struck with wild affection for him, Sadie forgot that she was trying to be quiet, letting out a laugh that suddenly peaked in a yelp as Brian ripped open her tights in his effort to get them off. “Holy fuck,” she whispered, the fight going out of her, letting him roughly bend her over and shove down her panties with one hand while he took his dick in the other and guided himself inside her.

Sadie didn’t care that a Manhattan comedy club bathroom was probably not the cleanest place to have dirty sex or that someone might be waiting on the other side of the door or even that a puddle of water was soaking through the front of her dress. All she cared about was Brian’s erratic panting and his hand on the scruff of her neck and his hips slamming her into the counter with such force she had to put a hand on the mirror to brace herself, because it all added up to this fucking wave she was cresting. She barely breathed at all, gasping, choppy, taking and keeping it all in even as she was about to unhinge. The only sounds in the room were Brian breathing too hard and Sadie not at all as he pounded her and the audience roared in the distance.

Before tonight, they’d had sex twice since they’d met and Sadie already knew he liked to vary his speeds, give himself a break, give her a break, take her by surprise, a delicious mix of sweet and relentless, but this was different. This was hard and fast. He wasn’t going easy on either of them.

Thrusting harder, he moved both hands to her hips, grip so tight it was painful, and she finally lifted her head and looked up. Her hooded gaze fell on the mirror and the entire debauched image of him fucking her from behind, eyes squeezed shut, expression crumpled, sweat shining, and she lost it. She came so hard her body turned into a live wire sparking, and Brian rode it out, his eyes opening and taking in the sight of her dissolving before him like it was a fucking wonder.

Any other time, he might have taken pity on her, he might have seen her hands scrabbling to hold onto something and given her his, he might have felt her knees go weak and changed positions, but this was hot and dirty and she’d started it and mercy was the last thing on his mind.

He took a handful of her hair and kept up his unforgiving pace, grinning when he saw the hint of a smile on her face, until his eyes closed again and his hips stuttered and he bit his lip. He slipped an arm around her, pulling her up and against his chest, where he held on tight as he came, winded and stunned and suddenly gentle. For a moment, all he could do was catch his breath. Sadie was happy to be held until he did.

Finally, he let out an exhausted laugh and pressed a lazy kiss into her hair, pulling out and stepping back and doing his jeans back up. “Well.”

Sadie straightened her dress with a cheeky smirk. “I'll say.”

With a grin equal parts giddy and adoring, Brian went to her, smoothing her hair down. “This got a little crazy,” he said, laughing when she caught sight of her sex hair in the mirror and covered her face with a snicker. “Sorry about your tights.”

Sadie uncovered her face, revealing her first blush of the night. “Don’t be, that was hot.”

“I’ll get you new ones.”

“Fine, I’ll just make you rip them off me again.”

Brian ran a hand through his hair. “Well, fuck comedy, let’s go back to your place,” he announced, lunging for the door as she laughed. “Immediately. Goodbye.”

“You go first,” Sadie said. “I’m going to fix whatever you did to my goddamn hair.”

“Good luck,” he teased before he kissed her and unlocked the door. “I’ll be waiting outside for you, okay?”

“Okay,” she said, but the smile she said it with vanished as soon as he slipped out of the room. She looked at her reflection in the mirror, the audience’s laughter outside the door loud and strident, as she wondered how in the fuck she was supposed to get on a plane in less than forty-eight hours and let it take her any place where Brian wasn’t waiting for her outside.


	8. i know it's gotta stop, love, but i don't know how

Sadie was built from prairie and sky; she hadn't known what city streets and strangers would do to her. Last month, when she’d booked her flight to New York on a whim, she’d kept her hopes low. That was what Sadie had learned to do with hopes.

At best, she’d imagined filling up notebooks in coffee shops. She’d imagined spotting a celebrity in Times Square. She’d even imagined drinking too much at a bar and going home with a stranger, relishing in the glorious freedom of being able to leave the next morning. She’d liked that idea very much.

She’d imagined being homesick but she hadn’t imagined it would be for New York. She hadn’t imagined waking up the morning before she had to leave for home, aching down to her bones at the very thought of leaving this city.

They’d barely made it through her door after the comedy show last night; Sadie certainly hadn’t imagined that when she’d planned her trip. She hadn’t imagined her clothes strewn across the apartment, her torn tights whipped over a kitchen chair, her dress shed on the couch, her bra dangling over a lamp, his belt on the floor, his button-down fallen bedside, his jeans nowhere to be seen: all shadows cast by last night’s desperation, bright and glaring in this morning’s sunshine.

Before she came here, Sadie had thought she’d be so happy to meet someone new and have the power to leave, to be unattainable and rootless, to not have a man look at her and think of all the ways he could whittle her. Instead, she sat here in bed on Saturday morning, feeling utterly powerless as Brian slept next to her. She did her best to be quiet while also doing her best not to imagine life like this, softly turning pages of her book until he woke up.

It was still early when he stirred, squinting up at her with a sleepy smile. “Morning,” he said, voice croaking, and stretched, his toes curling. “Good book?”

“Yes,” she whispered.

“What time is it?”

“Six-thirty.”

“So early,” he yawned. “You leave tomorrow.”

“I know.”

“Don’t,” he said, then threw an arm across her lap and promptly fell back asleep.

Her book was ruined by how sweet he was. She knew when she pulled it out of her bag to read on the plane tomorrow, she’d open it up to this page and remember him smiling up at her half-asleep on a sunny Saturday morning, telling her not to leave, and he wouldn’t feel as far away as he really was, and that wasn’t okay. Careful not to disturb him, she set her book down on the bedside table and picked up her phone.

She had one text, and it was from her mother. _Miss you! Can’t wait for you to come home._

Sadie wiped away a tear as it fell, and texted her mom back. _I miss you too :)_

She glanced down at Brian, his head tucked into her side as he held on tight to her in his sleep. She imagined what it would be like to bring him home, a man who didn’t talk over her or call her names, a man who would be kind to her parents and kiss her cheek when they weren’t looking. She imagined what it would be like if he were home.  

 _What if I stayed a little longer?_ she wrote, but didn’t send it.

+

Brian kissed her elbow before he opened his eyes. He let himself wake up slowly, clutching Sadie as he drifted to the surface. She stirred beside him, knowing he was awake, but stayed quiet, waiting.

Outside, cars honked their horns and pigeons cooed in the rafters, and the sky was bright and blue, and for the first time in a long time, Brian was content. His pride in his city was tender and thankful this morning, and maybe if he held her closer, she’d stay. This city could be hers. He could be, too. She slipped her arm from in between their bodies and draped it over his back so she could hold him too.

Sadie had the covers pulled up high as she sat propped up against her pillows, and he tugged them down so he could kiss his way up her ribs and her sternum and her wild pulse and her face. He pulled back as he tasted salt and sat up, his hand holding her face so that she had no choice but to look at him.

“Have you been crying?” he asked, quiet and unafraid of the answer.

“No,” she whispered back.

“You’re still here,” he told her. “It’s going to be a good day. Okay?”

“Okay,” she smiled, but she had to close her eyes.

“You still want to go to the barbecue at Joe’s?”

She nodded.

He kissed her forehead. “I can help you pack your stuff if you want to stay at my place tonight,” he said. “Then I can drive you to the airport tomorrow. I can drive you anyway, I was just thinking--”

“I want to stay with you,” she said, leaning into him.

He smiled, looking like it stung a little, and kissed her. Every kiss was sad because every kiss was a countdown, but neither of them had ever been the type to shy away from things that hurt them.

The softer he touched, the more painful it was, but there was no other way to touch her right now. This girl with her bottom lip quivering, her hands reaching for him, this girl who nuzzled into him with her eyes closed, sun breaking over her and lighting up her sadness -- he could only be gentle to her. He could only lay her down on her back and press kisses on her skin so soft and kind it was like they were never even there. His fingertips ghosted; his lips graced. His body covered hers, every inch of them touching, and with his cheek against hers, he entered her and they moved together like this was an art they had perfected.

Sadie finally opened her eyes and looked at him, their noses touching, their breathing soft and laboured, and her arms went around his neck, drawing him closer. Face to face, they said good morning and goodbye all at once, slow and steady and shaking. She locked her ankles behind his back and he burrowed his face into the crook of her neck and when she cried out it sounded like a sob so he kissed her, and when he came she dug her heels into his back, breathing hard and looking crushed.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, arms still on either side of her, looking down at her in concern.

“There’s nothing wrong,” she said, craning her neck up to kiss him. “That’s the problem.”

He rolled off of her and onto his side, his hand still holding her face, thumb stroking her cheek. “I know,” he said. “That’s the problem.”

+

Sadie showered first while Brian took a phone call about work, and then when he took his turn in the bathroom, she popped out to get coffee and bagels. She loved the smells and sounds of Lower Manhattan, the way everyone was so animated and friendly that she felt like she’d stumbled into a movie set or the kind of small town she’d been meant to grow up in. If nothing else, at least now she knew she could survive a big city. At least now she knew she belonged in one.

When she returned with her breakfast treasures, he was out of the shower, talking to someone on speakerphone while he swept the floor. She smiled at the sight of it, him doing business while cleaning up her mess, his hair wet and his grin for her bright in the morning sun, right at home here among her stacks of books and discarded sweaters and unfolded maps. A sight she shouldn’t get used to, but already had. A sight that was hers and no one else’s, even if just for a moment.

Brian wrapped up his phone call and then they sat at her little table to eat their breakfast, her feet on his lap and his hand on her knee. They made plans for the day -- they’d pack her bags, leave her keys here, take the ferry back to Staten Island, then hit up the grocery store before they headed over to Joe’s, all the while pretending this wouldn’t be the last time they would make plans together. Tonight was going to be fun, he told her, and she agreed, even though she would prefer if it just stayed morning forever.

But of course it didn’t.

+

Saturday was a maddening mix of taking their time and running out of it. Sadie had her coffee and Brian had her suitcase as they held hands on the walk to the subway, where they stood and watched buskers play through three full songs before they tossed money in their guitar case, and then turned a corner and saw a rat eating a piece of pepperoni pizza.

“Holy fuck,” Sadie said, agog, as she pulled out her phone to take a picture.

“And now,” Brian laughed, “you’re a true New Yorker.”

“That’s the initiation process?” she demanded, looking over her shoulder as they hurried down the hall.

“Sure is,” he said. “That’s the mystical subway pizza rat. He only appears to those who are worthy.”

“You say mystical subway pizza rat; I say Splinter,” she scoffed. “We just saw Splinter bringing pizza home to the Ninja Turtles and I cannot be convinced otherwise.”

“Is there a romantic word for kidnapping?” Brian asked as he paid for their metro cards. “Because that’s what I’m about to do to you.”

“There isn’t,” Sadie laughed. “But somehow I’m swooning anyway.”

Brian did some swooning of his own as she giddily went through the turnstiles like they were magic, and then he realized they were about to miss their train, so he grabbed her hand and they ran for it, laughing all the way. They found a corner to stand and people-watch, his arm around her shoulder, just a regular couple running errands on a Saturday morning.

Sadie nearly lost her mind on the Staten Island ferry, marveling at the view of the Statue of Liberty and her majestic cityline. She stood at the railing and he took a picture of her before she turned around and smiled at him.

“I should have done this sooner,” Sadie said, and he didn’t know if she meant the ferry ride or this whole fucking week, but either way, he was just happy to be here for it.

When they finally walked through his front door, Brian’s cats were mad as hell, demanding to know why he’d been gone so long and where their breakfast was.

“What do you do when you go out of town for work?” Sadie asked, leaving her suitcase by the door and laughing at the cats as they went crazy rubbing against his legs and crying for his attention like he’d just returned from battle.

“My neighbour looks after them,” Brian said, herding them into the kitchen so he could feed them. “And I have an app on my phone so I can check in on them and see what they’re up to.”

“Like a nanny cam?”

He grinned over his shoulder at her. “That’s normal, right?”

“Perfectly.”

Sadie watched him fill their food dishes, all the while making enthusiastic conversation with all three. Goddammit, she was bonkers about him.

“How many times in one conversation with three cats can one man call himself _daddy_?” she asked, needing to tease him so she wouldn’t do something insane and say something she couldn’t take back. “Because I object to every single one of them.”

“I _am_ their daddy,” he scoffed. “You’re just jealous.”

“I assure you that is one kink I do not have.”

“Well, it’s only 11:15 in the morning,” he said, checking his watch. “Plenty of time to find out what other kinks you do have.”

“The barbecue’s in six hours,” she said. “That’s only enough time for one or two of them.”

“Sadie, do I have to threaten to kidnap you again?”

Sadie raised an eyebrow at him. “I think in this case, it would be less like kidnapping and more like harbouring a fugitive.”

“Even sexier.”

“Kidnapping isn’t sexy, Brian.”

“Maybe not the way _you_ do it.”

She laughed, not putting up a fight as he pulled her to him. Her morning sadness was gone for a moment, left behind in that Manhattan bedroom, and now she was just happy to look up at him and have his arms around her in this cluttered kitchen, cats circling their feet, the day just beginning.

“We’ve got six hours to kill,” Brian whispered, moving her hair out of the way so he could kiss her neck. “How should we kill it?”

Sadie smirked, sly and suggestive, then stood on her tiptoes so she could whisper in his ear: “ _Ghostbusters_.”

The smile that spread over his face was slow and appreciative. “Honestly, there was only one acceptable answer besides fucking for six hours, and that was it.”

“That’s always on the menu too,” she said, giggling when he playfully kissed up and down her neck like he was trying to eat her, and the clock kept ticking.

+

Naturally, they had to pause the movie halfway through because they couldn’t keep their idiot hands off each other, so they didn’t have time to watch the sequel before they had to make a grocery store run. Sadie chattered about the movie all the way to the store, her hand surfing through the breeze out the open window of Brian’s jeep. The day kept getting nicer.

Brian smiled over at her at a red light, letting his eyes roam over her in his passenger seat. She was sunny as hell, hair windblown, goosebumps on her bare legs, her gentle gaze taking in the streets he grew up on. The light turned green but she was inches from him and he could barely keep his eyes on the road. “I’m glad you liked it,” he said.

“I loved it,” Sadie said. “I can’t believe it took me three decades to finally watch it.”

“Me neither,” he said. “I’m actually jealous that you got to see it for the first time just now.”

“In New York, no less.”

He grinned at her, because he liked the look on her face when she talked about his city. “Don’t forget you have a sequel to look forward to.”

“Oh,” she said with a wave of her hand. “I couldn’t watch it without you.”

“Well, we could watch it over Skype.”

Sadie pulled her arm back inside the window, glanced at him fleetingly, and wrung her hands out on her lap. “I don’t have Skype,” she said.

He laughed, uncertain. “It’s pretty easy to get.”

“Speaking of which, what are we getting at the grocery store?”

Brian was so taken aback by her abrupt iciness that he took his hands off the steering wheel for a second, at a loss, with nothing to offer but a startled chuckle. Even on his best days, he was a bull in a china shop, whether he was in a challenge or a relationship -- it was the only way he knew how to get through things. But with Sadie, he couldn’t spit his words out, much less accuse or confront. He couldn’t latch on to her silence and not let go until she told him what her problem was. He was a wrecking ball; he always had been, and he’d always gotten the job done, but right now, he was afraid to move. He couldn’t risk breaking something.

“Joe said he has enough burgers to feed a small army,” Brian said at last, hands back at ten and two on the wheel. “So I figured we could grab some extra buns, maybe some ice cream since it’s so nice out.”

Maybe she was faking it, but Sadie smiled. “I like that you would bring ice cream to a party. You’re cute.”

He returned her smile, trying to bounce back from his sinking heart. “Thank you,” he said. “Probably should get some beer too.”

“Good idea,” she said. “I just don’t want to drink much tonight.”

“Yeah, flying with a hangover is the worst.”

She nodded, and when he glanced at her, Brian saw that she looked like she was trying to decide whether or not she should say what she was thinking.

“What?” he urged.

“It’s more so that I just don’t want to miss anything,” she said, shy, sitting on her hands to stop from fidgeting. “It’s my last night with you.”

 _It doesn’t have to be,_ Brian wanted to tell her, but didn’t want to be a wrecking ball.

+

Sadie nearly cried in the frozen food aisle while Brian left to swap their basket for a cart. Her dumbass heart couldn’t fucking take today. She didn’t know how something so temporary could feel like forever, how something so silly and stupid could feel so goddamn safe. How today, the last day, could be the best and the worst all at once, how the end could feel like the beginning. She was in shambles.

It was this domestic bullshit. It was taking showers and business calls, it was sweeping floors and eating breakfast, it was hopping on subways and ferries hand-in-hand, feeding cats and watching old movies, making popcorn and having sex on the couch, driving through town and buying groceries, going to see friends he’d had for twenty-six years. All she wanted to do was settle into this life like a blanket around her shoulders at the end of a hard day. It was here; she was welcome; this was it. But she couldn’t. She couldn’t.

“You trying to refrigerator the whole neighbourhood?” Brian called to her as he wheeled his cart into the aisle where Sadie crouched with the freezer door open, looking at ice cream flavours. “What’s the matter, can’t pick just one?”

Sadie blinked hard and swiped her hand over her face and got to her feet. She was supposed to smile now, supposed to say something funny and sweet. Maybe go to him, slip her fingers through his belt loops and pull him up against her. Entertain, be low-maintenance. Be happy.

She couldn’t.

She let the door close, freezing cold, hugging her arms to her body, and turned to him. “I’m sad.”

Brian went still for a moment, then abandoned the cart at the end of the aisle and crossed the space between them. Without a word, he nodded, hands gesturing _come here_ , and then wrapped her up with her head tucked under his chin, and held on, tight as he could. They lost count of how long they stayed that way.

And maybe it didn’t last twenty minutes, but there, in a Staten Island grocery store, crushed and shivering, not talking, not kissing, without an ounce of selfishness, someone finally held Sadie Waters the way she’d always wanted.


	9. what if this is all the love you ever get?

Joe Gatto didn’t need to drink alcohol to be a holy terror, which you could always count on him to be. By the time Brian and Sadie walked into the crowded Gatto backyard, Joe was already the life of the party, giving a lap dance to a very distressed Sal.

“Q, thank God you’re here,” Sal said, reaching out a hand and flailing it helplessly in Brian’s direction. “He’s had so many _pastries_. Now he’s bouncing off the goddamn walls.”

“And your dick,” Brian said, then clapped his hand over his mouth. “Fuck! Are there children here? I always forget to check.”

“Do you think I’d be Magic Mike-ing all over Sal if my children were here?” Joe demanded, windmilling his arms for balance as he gracelessly struggled off of Sal’s lap. “Bessy and the kids are at her mom’s this weekend, hence the debauchery.”

“Good thing we got extra whipped cream,” Brian said, holding up his grocery bag as proof.

“Add it to the pile,” Joe said, walking across the lawn to greet them, full of laughter.

“We got extra buns, too,” Sadie offered as Joe approached. “All kinds.”

“Did you? Thank you; I’ll take those off your hands,” he said, taking the bag from her, and then gave her a hug. “Good to see you, honey. Glad you’re here.”

At the words _you’re_ _here,_ Sadie’s eyes flicked up to Brian as Joe hugged her, but when they pulled apart, her smile was back and all for Joe. “Thanks for having me.”

“Thanks for making him almost halfway-tolerable this week,” Joe replied with a cackle to punctuate it, and then suddenly turned his head to sniff the air. “Gotta flip the burgs.”

While Joe dashed up the porch steps to check on the grill, Brian and Sadie sifted through the clusters of people in the backyard. Brian knew most of them, but didn’t stop to talk besides cheerful greetings and quick introductions. He preferred the outskirts of a party, and besides, wasn’t really interested in anyone else tonight.

Sal didn’t get up from his plastic chair by the fire pit, but he did smile upwards when Brian and Sadie came over. He had a beer and a plate of pretzels on his lap. “Oh, hello,” he said, cool as a cucumber. “You again.”

“You again,” Sadie retorted, taking the empty seat next to Brian, as well as the beer he offered. “You and I are already fighting.”

Sal placed a delicate hand over his wounded heart. “That was fast,” he said. “Now what?”

“Brian said I couldn’t get cotton candy ice cream because he said you don’t like it, so I’m mad at you.”

Beaming, Sal stretched smugly back in his chair, lacing his fingers together behind his head like a crime lord. “Well, well, well,” he gloated. “Looks like I’m still his favourite.”

“No, I just didn’t want to listen to you bitch about it all night,” Brian said, launching into a Sal impression. “‘ _Q,_ you _know_ cotton candy ice cream makes my _mouth_ all _purply_.’”

“It _does_ ,” Sal snarked, and then rolled his eyes at Sadie. “I look like I blew a goddamn dinosaur _one time_ and no one will let me forget it.”

“It’s literally our job to exploit your humiliations,” Brian said. “You think you’d be used to it by now.”

“What’s that, Sadie?” Sal crossed one leg over the other, looking like he was about to spill some tea. “You want to hear humiliating stories about Q? Let me think.”

“Don’t be an asshole,” Brian laughed, reaching out a foot to scuff Sal’s leg.

Sal smiled serenely at Sadie, undeterred. “Has Q told you where the girl he lost his virginity to is right now?”

Sadie grinned. “Is she right here, sitting in my chair?”

Sal raised his hands to the heavens in victory while Brian’s jaw dropped. “No, but that’s so much better,” Sal crowed, high-fiving her while she laughed proudly.

“You’re both assholes,” Brian huffed, smirking crookedly when they just laughed at him. “And for the record, she’s in prison, which is where I’ll be after I kill Sal later tonight.”

“Nah, I’ll help you get away with it,” Sadie said. “And then I’ll go back to Canada. Perfect crime.”

“She’s a little scary,” Sal told Brian. “But I think I like her.”

“I do too,” Brian said, dropping a wink and giving Sadie’s knee a squeeze.

There had been a soft sad hum between them since the grocery store. They’d walked away from that aisle and paid for their groceries in silence, then spoke in gentle voices on the drive over to Joe’s, mostly letting the music on the radio do the talking. They both felt bruised.

“I can’t open this,” Sadie said, holding up her beer bottle to Brian. “Help.”

“Shit, I should’ve gotten twist-tops,” Brian said. “I’ll go see if Joe has a bottle opener.”

But before Brian could get up, Joe appeared behind them, clamping his hands down on Brian and Sadie’s shoulders and grinning like a dad about to make a bad joke. “You rang?”

Brian startled and then laughed, shrugging Joe off grumpily. “How do you move so silently? You’re like a ninja.” He took Sadie’s beer and sat forward in his seat. “Do you have a bottle opener?”

“In the kitchen,” Joe said. “Top drawer next to the oven.”

“Cool, I’ll be right back.” He stood up and then took a confused look around. “Where’s Murray?”

Joe swooped in and took Brian’s seat next to Sadie. “He wasn’t invited.”

Sal rolled his eyes. “Don’t get our hopes up like that.”

“Oh, you’re right, sorry, just kidding,” Joe said. “My neighbour brought a female Murr’s never met so he’s around here somewhere trying to have sex with her.”

“Gross,” Brian said.

Joe leaned sideways towards Sadie with a conspiratorial smirk. “You’re lucky it was Q who sat next to you during that challenge.”

She leaned closer too, her smile matching his. “I know.”

“Joe, come on,” Brian scolded with a laugh, his hand resting on Sadie’s shoulder like he wasn’t quite ready to leave her side yet.

“Has this galumphing idiot shown you a good week?” Joe asked her.

She nodded, tossing a smile up to Brian. “It’s been one for the books.”

“When do you head back home?”

Deflating, she lowered her gaze from Brian’s. “Ah, tomorrow.”

“Q hasn’t talked you into staying yet?” Joe asked, and his tone was lighthearted and edged with laughter, like it always was.

“No,” she said.

“I’m surprised,” Joe said, because sometimes he didn’t take the time to read a room. “He’s very charming. He can usually talk me into anything.”

Brian gave Sadie’s arm one final brush and then headed for the house in search of a bottle opener. He had a beer bottle in each hand, his head ducked, his shoulders rounded. Both Sadie and Sal watched him go, and then Sal turned his what-the-fuck look on Joe.

“What?” Joe squawked. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Because this is how I look at morons,” Sal said. “Go help him find his fucking bottle opener.”

“Son of a bitch,” Joe grumbled, because maybe he didn’t always read a room right, but he did love his friends. He suddenly realized what he’d just said. He stood up from his chair and crossed the backyard, stopping to check on the grill quickly before he went inside the house.

Sal took a swig from his beer. “Did he ask you?”

Sadie took her eyes off the house. “Ask me what?”

“To stay.”

“No,” she said. “There’s no point.”

“That’s not true,” Sal said. “Just because it isn’t logical doesn’t mean there’s no point.”

“There’s no point in him asking because all I can say is no,” she said. “I can’t stay.”

“I bet you could stay longer.”

“And delay the inevitable?” she asked. “It’s already hard enough.”

Sal shrugged. He looked at the fire in the pit, the wheels in his head turning while the flames jumped. Finally, he just shook his head and looked at her. “Pretzel?”

Sadie stared at him and the plate of pretzels he was holding out to her, and then she smiled. “Thanks.”

“Just don’t touch the other pretzels with your fingers.”

She laughed. She carefully picked up a pretzel and popped it in her mouth, then sat back in her chair and watched him watch the fire. “It’s true, you know.”

He looked up. “What is?”

“You really are his favourite.”

He smiled. "So are you."

+

When Brian came back with beers and a bowl of chips, he’d picked his smile back up where he left it. “Hey,” he whispered, walking up behind Sadie and bending down to kiss the side of her head. “Come eat.”

So Sadie and Sal followed him to the barbecue on the deck where Joe was handing off burgers to anyone holding out an empty paper plate in his direction. They sidled up to Murr, who looked so happy to see Sadie next to Brian that it made people turn their heads to look at her.

In good spirits, they all got their burgers and doctored them up with condiments. Sadie told Brian if he wanted to kiss her again he needed to put the onions down, and he said now they were even for the cotton candy ice cream. They were a couple of kids on a date, attached at the hip, giggling over little things together, oblivious to everyone around them.

They sat on the grass outside the firepit instead of finding more chairs, their shoulders pressed together, knees overlapping. They ate happily, content to just sit and laugh and listen to Sal and Murr bicker and Joe egg them on. With the crickets chirping and the stars above them, it was a long way from the horseshoe-shaped booth at that dive bar from her first night, but the feeling was still the same: she fit in. She belonged. Nothing had ever suited her more.

When they’d long since finished their dinner and their six pack, Brian decided it was time for ice cream. Sal and Joe rejoiced while Murr cradled his stomach in pain.

“Maybe you shouldn’t have eaten four cheeseburgers, you garbage can,” Joe told him, poking Murr’s bloated belly.

“Stop it!” Murr cackled, fending off Joe’s hands. “I’m going to die!”

“Joe, keep poking him,” Sal said.

While Joe and Murr battled and Sal cheered them on, Brian smiled over at Sadie. “Do you want to come with me to get ice cream?”

“Yep,” she said, accepting his hand and letting him help her to her feet, and brushed the grass off the back of her shorts.

“Murr, do you want any or not?” Brian asked, his arm around Sadie’s waist.

“Yes I do,” Murr said, jumping up from his chair. “I’ll help you.”

“Murr, would you sit down, you moron?” Sal sighed, waving Brian and Sadie away.

“What?” Murr demanded, hands on his hips, his confused indignation loud and clear even as Brian and Sadie turned their backs on them and headed for the house. “I was being polite!”

“You’re being a cockblocker,” Sal explained, his patience for Murr as usual running thin.

Sadie laughed as they climbed the deck stairs hand-in-hand. “I hope you guys give Murr a break sometimes,” she said.

“Nah,” Brian laughed back, opening the screen door and letting her go inside ahead of him. “Being assholes to each other is how we show love.”

“Then you must love each other a lot,” she said, although she really didn’t want to talk about the things they loved right now. She smiled as she looked around the kitchen, which was neat and tidy and humble and reminded her of going to her friends’ houses after school when she was a kid. It was safe and welcoming. Neither Joe or Brian lived in houses that she would’ve imagined celebrities to live in, and she found that terribly endearing.

Sadie followed Brian across the kitchen and studied the pictures on the fridge while he opened the freezer to dig out their ice cream. “This is Joe’s family?” she asked, pointing at a photo of a pretty woman with dark hair holding two smiling children on her lap, surrounded in bichon frises.

“Yeah,” Brian said. “That’s Bessy and the kids.”

“They look happy.”

“They are, I think.” Brian opened a drawer, moving around this kitchen as confidently as he would his own, and pulled out an ice cream scooper. “Joe’s a lucky guy.”

She couldn’t stop and think about the sad note in his voice. “How many dogs does he have?”

“We’ve lost count,” he laughed. “They’re all rescues though.”

Sadie had known a lot of men like Joe in her life, the show-stealers with the loudest voices and biggest laughs, but she’d never known one who was as kind as he was funny. “My heart just grew three sizes.”

Brian glanced over at her with a little smirk, looking like he wanted to say something, but then settled for kissing her instead.

“Could you grab me some bowls, sweetheart?” he asked. “They’re in the cupboard right behind you.”

Sadie turned around and pulled a stack of bowls down from the cupboard, stopping to smile at all the plastic cups with Disney characters on them. She set the bowls down on the counter and leaned her hip against it, delighting sadly at the sight of Brian with an ice cream scoop in this cozy kitchen.

“This is nice,” she said softly.

He didn’t look up, just kept busy scooping ice cream. “What is?”

Laughter rose and fell over the steady chatter outside, but here in the kitchen, it was quiet. Just the sound of the lights humming above them and the two of them unconsciously shifting closer to each other, as they had been all week.

She looked at him, solemn but gentle. “This,” she said. “Tonight, with your friends. I love it here.”

Brian’s hands moved slower, but he said nothing.

She’d said something wrong, so she kept trying. “I’m glad this is how I’m spending my last night.”

Finally, he glanced at her. His eyes were soft and sad but sure.

She took a step back. She knew that look. She’d never seen it before, but she knew it. “Don’t.”

Brian dropped the scoop in the bucket and faced her. “Don’t? Don’t what?”

She shook her head. She didn’t want to do this. “I know what Joe said earlier, but he was just joking. You don’t have to.”

“What, have to ask?” Brian nearly laughed. “Is that what you mean?”

“That’s what I mean,” she said. “You don’t have to ask.”

“Of course I have to fucking ask,” he said. “I have to ask, Sadie.”

She looked up at him, biting her lip. Her knees were shaking but she’d stand her ground. She had to. “Why?” she asked quietly. “You already know the answer.”

“Because what if I’m wrong?”

Before Sadie could say anything, a pair of men walked into the kitchen, in the middle of a raucous conversation about baseball. They nodded at Brian as they headed straight for the fridge and rooted around for beers. Still yammering about the Mets versus the Yankees, they popped the caps off their bottles, not picking up on the silent tension between Sadie and Brian.

“Come on,” Brian muttered, a gentle hand closing around her wrist. They abandoned the ice cream on the counter and walked out of the kitchen in search of a private place to talk. They walked through the hall, lined with family photos, and found Joe’s bedroom, where they sat on the bed without turning the lights on.

The sun was gone, and all they were left with was dying light. The first stars of the night cast dark stripes across the room, throwing shadows over them as they sat, knees touching, bodies facing each other, just like that first night, just like last night, when they couldn’t get enough of each other. And now, they’d gotten all they were ever going to get.

“This can’t be it,” Brian muttered.

Sadie looked down at his hands and stopped herself from touching him.

“Sadie, come on,” he said. “Look at me.”

She did. She sat as straight as she could and tried not to crumple as she looked at him with his eyes so dark and kind and worried. “Brian,” she whispered. “I just want to have a nice night.”

“I want you to stay.”

Sadie broke their gaze. Her eyes returned to her hands. There were no words she could possibly say right now that she would mean except for _I will_ and she couldn’t say that so she didn’t say anything at all.

“Stay another week,” he said, taking a chance and lacing their fingers together. “I’ll book your flight home myself, just stay another week.”

She shook her head. “I work on Monday, I can’t just--”

“Bullshit you can’t just,” he said. “It’s only one more week.”

“Exactly, it’s only one more week,” she said. “It’s only one more fucking week, Brian. Do you know what could happen in a week?”

“ _Yeah_ ,” he said, looking at her like she was crazy. “More of _this._ What’s wrong with that?”

“I can’t handle more of this,” she said. “I’m already in over my goddamn head with you; I can’t do another week and get even deeper and then have to leave for real. If I stay another week, it’s just going to be even harder to say goodbye.”

Brian stared at her. Suddenly, it clicked. He understood. “You’re not coming back.”

She flinched. He'd known it before she did.

“You said you were coming back,” he said, the feeling of betrayal rising. “At the bar, that first night. I asked you and you said yes.”

“I meant it,” she said.

“And now you don’t?” he demanded.

“I don’t know,” she murmured. "I don't think so."

He went from worried to angry. “I wouldn’t have even fucking kissed you that night if I’d known you wouldn’t mean it a couple days later; are you serious?”

“Are _you_ serious?” she shot back. “You wouldn’t have _kissed me?”_

“I was nuts about you from the second I met you,” he snapped. “If you’d said nope this is a one-time thing, I wouldn’t have gotten so fucking tangled up in you. I’m not a goddamn masochist.”

“Yes you are!” she said, laughing in disbelief. “We both are! Otherwise we wouldn’t be doing this!”

“I thought you were coming back!” he said. “This whole time, you knew this was it? It was just this week?”

“No, not this whole time,” she protested. “But as the week went on and I -- I mean, for fuck's sake, Brian, I've never felt like this about anyone, and I just started to realize -- I realized we need to rip the fucking bandaid off; we can’t drag this out because it’s only going to hurt more, don’t you see that?”

“That’s why you’ve been off all day today,” he said. “Here I’ve just been sad because I’m going to miss you, but you’ve been sad because this is literally the end.”

“Please don’t make me out to be some kind of villain, Brian, that’s not--”

“That’s why you got all weird when I mentioned Skype,” Brian said, digging deeper into the wound. “It’s not just that you’re not coming back. You’re not going to talk to me after tomorrow.”

Sadie shrugged, helpless. “What would I say?”

He shrugged back. “This really meant nothing to you?”

“It meant everything to me,” she snapped. “If it meant nothing, I’d come back so we could hook up again. I’d call you so we could have phone sex. I’d stay in touch with you so I could drunk dial you and ask you to make me laugh. But it didn’t mean nothing: it meant everything, and what am I supposed to do with that?”

“Is that a real question?”

“Yes, it’s a real question,” she said. “Was this just a hook up to you?”

He gave her a hurt look. “You know it wasn’t.”

“Well, if I keep coming back, if we stay in touch, that’s all we can ever be,” she said. “I’m always going to leave. There’s always going to be goodbye.”

He shook his head at her. “Then just stay,” he said. “Move here.”

Sadie’s shoulders sagged. “Besides the fact that it’s not that easy to move to another country,” she said, calm and slow, throat aching, “do you really want a girl who would just up and leave her whole life for a guy she’s known for a week?”

“If it’s you, yeah.”

“That doesn’t seem fucking crazy to you?”

“Of course it does,” he said. “But what’s even crazier to me is you just walking away from this, scot-free. Like it’s that easy for you.”

“It’s not _easy,”_ she said, and finally started to cry. “I don’t _want_ to go.”

“So don’t.”

Sadie looked at him, eyes brimmed with tears, furious that he would make her keep explaining why she needed to do this. Why she needed to break her own heart now when there was still some of it left, instead of later, when it was all his and she had nothing.  

Brian took her silence to heart and ripped away from her, standing up and putting space between them. “So you’re going to go home and then what?” he demanded. “You’re just going to go back to the same old shit you’ve always had. You think you’re going to find someone there?”

“I don’t need anyone.”

“I fucking know that but don’t you think you deserve to be happy?” He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. “This is bullshit, Sadie. I mean, you’ll give 13 years to a guy who treats you like shit but I only get a week?”

“Well, that’s certainly not a fair question.”

“It isn’t?” He barked a laugh. “What about this one -- did you think it was fair to lead me on? You don’t think I have enough shit going on?”

“Give me a break,” she said, just as frustrated. “Do you want me to feel sorry for you? This is your _life!_ I don’t see you packing a bag to follow me home because you know you’ve got everything you’ve ever wanted right here. You’ve got this city and these friends and that show and your pick of the fucking litter if you want it -- that’s your reality! I was just happy to be a part of it for a little while and I’m so angry that you want me to feel bad about where I come from and the fact that I don’t want to let how much I care about you destroy me.”

“When the _fuck_ did I say _that?”_

“You didn't! But you don't get it: you have a soft place to land; I don't,” Sadie said. “I’m going to go home heartbroken and the only person who cares that I left to begin with is my mother, and I don’t get why you can’t see that it’s easier to make a clean break so it doesn’t hurt any more than it already fucking does.”

“Why does everything have to be easy?” Brian demanded. “You want me to feel sorry for _you?_ No one made you stay there, you just stayed, because that was easy. Now I’m _asking_ you to stay, but you’re leaving, because that’s what’s easiest for _you.”_

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Sadie said. “Are you not used to not getting what you want? You’re not used to people saying no to you?”

“People have said no to me my whole life!” he barked back. “Everything I have, I fucking fought for, and I’m not going to let you make me the bad guy here either, all right?”

She buried her face in her hands. “I’m not trying to, I’m just -- I’m _sorry_ , okay? I’m sorry.”

“I’m just mystified, Sadie,” he said, his voice lowering and losing its anger but none of its fire. “I spent a week getting to know this incredible, brave girl who moved mountains to get back to herself, and now the week is over and she’s transformed back into the girl she said she left behind. I don’t know what the fuck is going on here. I don’t know what happened.”

Sadie lifted her head and looked at him. Suddenly, it wasn’t hard to imagine how sad he could get. It wasn’t hard to imagine the boy he’d been once, sitting at a table, crumbling and asking for help. She was filled with anger for anyone who had ever hurt him. She was angry at anyone who had never known what they had. She was angry at herself for being such a coward.

Brian met her gaze and held on, hands in his pockets, heart on his sleeve, just as angry at her and everyone else and himself as she was. His voice went gentle and sad as he shook his head and said, “I don’t know what I did wrong.”

Sadie tried to smile, but couldn’t, so she just laughed miserably and shrugged instead. “I’m in love with you.”

Brian’s lips parted and his eyes softened as he looked at her like she’d just slapped him. “Thanks, Sadie,” he muttered, taking his hands out of his pockets and leaving his heart right where she’d broken it. “I love you too,” he said in the most accusing voice he could muster, and walked out of the room.


	10. before it becomes that thing that broke my heart in two

“Q, what the hell is this?” Sal demanded when Brian walked into the kitchen. “You couldn’t bring us the fucking ice cream before you snuck off to get laid?”

“What?” Brian shot back, too lost in his angry daze to register what Sal was talking about, or why he and Joe were loitering in the kitchen.

“Now it’s all melty,” Sal whined, giving Joe a look of repulsion when Joe picked up a bowl and started to eat it anyway. “Joe, that’s disgusting.”

“It’s delicious,” Joe snickered, spooning soupy ice cream into his mouth with giddy defiance. He pointed the spoon in Brian’s direction. “You’d better not have been having sex in my room, you son of a bitch.”

Brian shook his head, hands pressing down on the back of a chair at the table, as if he’d just come running from somewhere.

Sal noticed. “Hey,” he said. “What’s up?”

“Nothing,” Brian replied. “I’m a fucking idiot.”

“Goddammit,” Sal sighed, although his impatience for Brian was coated in affection. “What did you do?”

When Brian didn’t answer, Sal swooped in with a muttered curse, crossing the kitchen to place a hand at the scruff of his friend’s neck and escort him towards the back door. This was how those two had always been, always knowing when something was wrong and how to fix it without a word. It was a bond Joe and Murr had always been a little jealous of, even back in high school, like Q and Sal were a little more like brothers than any of the rest of them.

“Where is she?” Joe called before they could leave.

“Your room,” Brian said, not looking back as Sal led him outside.

Joe was left alone with four bowls of melting ice cream as he watched his friends walk shoulder-to-shoulder through the backyard. Murr was hitting it off with a woman from Bessy’s book club, and that was why Joe and Sal had ventured back into the house to eat ice cream and complain about their friends not being able to keep it in their pants. Now, watching Sal and Brian standing by the fence, having a heart-to-heart, Joe decided he’d rather have Q boning in every room of his house than see him look so defeated.

He didn’t know what to do with the ice cream, so he just dumped the bucket and all the bowls in the freezer, and then took one more look outside to see how Brian was doing before he made up his mind and walked down the hall.

The door wasn’t closed but he knocked anyway. “Hey, honey,” Joe said, not waiting for her to even look up before he walked in. “I didn’t realize this was where the real party was at.”

Startled and embarrassed, Sadie swiped the back of her hand over her cheek before she lifted her head and looked at him. “Ugh, fuck, sorry,” she said. She was sitting on the floor with her back to the bed, and didn’t look like she could get up if she tried. “I’ll leave, I was just sitting for a minute.”

“And go where?” he asked, not to be a dick, but just to get her to stay put. “Mind if I sit for a minute too?”

She shook her head. “It’s your room.”

Joe took a seat next to her on the floor, trying to make her laugh by making a production out of sitting down with his old man bones, but it didn’t work. He was graceless but good-intentioned, and so he cut to the chase as kindly as he could. “Q didn’t seem happy.”

“No,” she agreed. “He wasn’t.”

“Neither do you.”

She tried to smile. “Nope.”

“You guys did a number on each other, huh?”

Sadie sighed. And then she turned her face away from him, her shoulders shaking silently.

Joe stood up and grabbed a box of tissues from the bedside table and handed it to her before he sat back down. “What did he do?”

“He didn’t do anything,” she said, taking a tissue gratefully. “I’m the asshole.”

“Okay,” Joe said. “What did _you_ do?”

“I told him I don’t think I should come back,” she said. “And that I don’t think we should stay in touch.”

Joe laughed, surprised. “Yikes,” he said. “ _Why?”_

She shrugged. “I thought it would be for the best?” She grabbed another tissue and blew her nose. “I thought it would be better for both of us to get it out of the way now before it gets too sad later, you know? Why keep something alive that’s eventually going to break our hearts?”

“All right,” he said, nodding while he gave that some thought. “Self-preservation. I get it.”

“Yeah,” she said, dissolving into a fresh batch of tears. “But as soon as he walked out that door, I realized I didn’t mean a fucking word of it.”

He chuckled. “I didn’t think you did.”

Sadie hugged her knees to her chest and bowed her head. “I’m a stupid dumb asshole,” she wept, her voice muffled by her knees. “I’m a stupid dumb asshole who’s full of shit and never should have left Canada.”

“I can think of at least one galumphing idiot who wouldn’t agree,” Joe told her. “Besides me, of course.”

“He was so good to me and I’m just like _bye bitch see you never,”_ she went on miserably. “I fucking _tricked_ him.”

“He’s a grown-ass man,” Joe said. “He knew you were a tourist when he met you but he chose to pursue you anyway. There were two of you tangoing here, kiddo.”

“Don’t be nice to me,” she cried. “I’m horrible.”

“I’m gonna throw you out the window,” Joe laughed, stretching an arm around her and pulling her against his side. “You’re not horrible. You tried to pull off a mercy kill you didn’t have the heart for.”

She just covered her face with her hands, unconvinced that she wasn’t garbage.

“I gotta ask you something though,” Joe said.

“What,” she choked out, hardly intelligible through her hands and tears.

He laughed, full of affection for this girl he barely knew, because she was splattered on the floor over someone he loved with every fibre of himself. She was the first person he’d seen be gentle to his friend in years: not over-excited, not entitled, not constantly calculating all the ways she could use him. Over the course of less than a week, she’d shaved years off of him. She was ridiculous.

“Why did you think it would end?”

Sadie hiccupped. “What?”

“You’re ending it now so it can’t hurt you later,” Joe said. “But how do you know it ends?”

She blinked at him. “Are you not caught up on the situation?”

He laughed. “Yeah, I’ve been following along.”

“We live in different countries,” she said.

“So? Planes go to both.”

“And we have two totally different lives.”

“I think that’s part of the appeal,” he said. “Probably to both of you.”

Sadie balled up her tissue and grabbed a new one, although her tears had slowed through her frustration. “Okay, say we do this whole whirlwind thing and I come back every few months, and we talk every day when I go home, and we keep it going,” she said. “And what, I’m supposed to expect him not to meet someone else? Not to get tired of waiting and give someone else a chance? I know how many girls want to fuck him.”

“So does he but that doesn’t mean he fucks them,” Joe laughed. “That’s what you’re worried about?”

She looked at him like she couldn’t believe he would laugh at her, like she couldn’t believe he would trivialize how incredibly picked-over she’d been her entire life. “Among other things, but yeah, that’s what I’m worried about,” she said. “It would kill me to think of him with anyone else. Even just one night.”

“I’ve known Q nearly thirty years and I’ve never known him to cheat on a girlfriend,” Joe told her.

“I’m not his girlfriend.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

Sadie dropped her gaze.

Joe picked it back up with a nudge of his elbow and a quiet voice. “He’s true blue. If he’s in, he’s all in.”

“It’s too much to ask,” she said, not letting herself believe him. “You said it yourself, he’s charming and -- and you know how he is, he’ll meet someone, and --”

“Did he ask you to stay?” Joe asked. “Is that how this whole meltdown started?”

She nodded.

“You don’t think _that’s_ too much to ask?” He smiled when she didn’t respond. “Because it is. After a week? That’s insanity. But he gave it a shot anyway.”

With a heavy-hearted sigh, Sadie laid her head back against the bed and looked up at the ceiling. “Should I have said yes?”

“I can’t tell you what to do, honey. Maybe you’ll go home and all your dreams will come true there. Maybe you’ll meet some nice guy who makes you never want to leave again,” Joe told her. “Maybe Q’s your endgame and you’re fucking up right now. I don’t know.”

“Me neither.” She sat forward and wiped a stray tear away. “I think no matter how you look at it, I fucked up.”

Joe smiled at her. He wasn’t the type to suffer fools, but Sadie was a sweet one. “Listen, I don’t know you well, and Q didn’t tell us much, but I kinda get the feeling you got hurt and now you feel like you need to cut and run before you get hurt again,” Joe went on. “Am I close?”

“Spot on.”

“Well, I can’t promise you that you won’t. I can’t promise he won’t hurt you. I mean, I love the guy to death, but sometimes he’s a moron,” Joe said. “Even if you lived here and there were no complications, he still wouldn’t be a risk-free choice. He self-sabotages, and I think you do too, so what happens when two dumbasses like you fall in love? I have no idea. And you want to know why I have no idea?”

“Okay.”

“Because he’s never met anyone like you,” Joe said. “I don’t know how this one turns out.”

Sadie groaned into her hands, lovesick and pathetic.

“There’s one thing I will tell you though,” Joe said. “Don’t forget this week.”

She nearly laughed. “I wouldn’t dare.”

“Good. Because I know he won’t either.”

Sadie lifted her head, pushed her hair out of her face, and dabbed at her eyes, checking the tissue for smudges of mascara. She took her time gathering herself, collecting her composure quietly, and Joe waited. Finally, just when she looked like she might be ready to look at him and get to her feet, she broke instead. New tears brought new streaks of mascara down her cheeks as her hair fell like curtains around her face and her shoulders trembled, head in her hands.

“Now what?” he laughed, giving her a brotherly shake.

“I moved all my stuff to his place,” she wept. “I left the keys at my Airbnb and don’t have anywhere else to stay.”

“You’re staying with him,” Joe said.

“He’s so mad at me.”

“Don’t be stupid, he’s not a monster,” he said. “And he’s not mad at you.”

“You didn’t see the way he looked at me.”

“No, but I saw the way he looked when he walked into the room,” Joe said. “He’s not mad, he’s a big dumb idiot with a big dumb idiot heart.”

“And I broke it.”

“You didn’t.” Joe smiled at her. “Go talk to him.”

“I look like a bridge troll.”

He laughed. “You look fine, but there’s a bathroom right there if you want to freshen up first.”

“I don’t know what to say to him.”

“Whatever you decide to say, just say it kindly.” Joe ruffled her hair and made another production out of struggling to his feet, feeling victorious when he got a tiny snicker out of her. “Come on. Up you get.”

Sadie took a deep breath and stood. Her posture was one of defeat, but she was up. She didn’t quite meet his eye, but she was trying. “Bathroom?”

“That door there.”

“Okay,” she said, then offered a little smirk. “Thanks, Joe.”

Joe gave her elbow a squeeze. “You’re a real one, Sadie.”

He saw a smile fight its way through her trembling bottom lip, and then she turned on her heel and headed for the bathroom he shared with Bessy. With a small, sad wave, she closed the door behind her.

When the water ran on the other side of the door, Joe made a beeline out of the room. He walked past the framed family photos in the hall, chronicling the greatest loves of his life, then passed through the kitchen, not stopping to shoot the shit with any of the people milling about, and slipped out the door with gusto.

Sal and Brian were exactly where he’d seen them last, backs against the fence, arms crossed, elbows pressed together. Brian didn’t look half as beaten as he had in the kitchen, but Sal was still looking at him in concern.

“Sup bitches,” Joe said by way of greeting, walking right up to them.

Sal sighed like he was a doctor about to deliver bad news. “He’s in love.”

“Great,” Joe said, clapping Brian on the shoulder and startling him. “So is she. Get back in there.”

Brian stared at him. He looked at Sal, and then back at Joe. “You talked to her, or…?”

Joe held his hands up as if to say don’t shoot the messenger. “Buddy, I don’t what’s going to happen tomorrow,” he said. “But if this is all you’re going to get, you need to go get it.”

Muttering under his breath, Brian glanced over at Sal as if for direction. Then, before Sal could give him any, Brian pushed between them and started across the backyard without a word. He took the porch steps two at a time and disappeared inside.

Joe turned to Sal. “What’d you say to him?”

Sal shrugged. “Guess we’ll find out.”

+

Brian was too busy rehearsing everything he wanted to say to watch where he was going. _That wasn’t how I wanted it to go_ , he’d say, followed by  _this isn’t how I want you to go either_ and then _I don’t want you to go at all_ and maybe _but if you have to_ and he didn’t have time to finish that thought because that was when he turned the corner down the hall and plowed right into Sadie, who was walking just as fast as he was.

“Jesus, fuck, sorry,” Brian said, reaching out with both hands to steady her as she bounced off of him and stumbled backwards. “I just about killed you.”

Sadie looked up at him, makeup gone, cheeks splotched pink, eyes a brighter blue. The simple sight of her broke his heart and made it burst all at the same time. “Nah,” she said, her throat raw. “I’m tougher than that.”

He moved his hand from her shoulder to brush a thumb over her cheek. “I know,” he said quietly.

She pressed into his touch. “Are you okay?”

Brian chuckled. “I just gave you whiplash and you’re asking if I’m okay?”

She nodded.

He took his hand back, crossing his arms over his chest. “Not really,” he admitted. “You?”

“No.”

He smiled sadly. “Do you want to go somewhere and talk?” he asked. “I won’t be a dick this time.”

“Yeah, we should,” she said, and followed him through the house, staying a step behind. After a long, painful beat, she said, “You weren’t a dick.”

Brian looked back at her as he opened the front door and ushered her through ahead of him. “Neither were you.”

She didn’t look like she believed him. “Which way?”

“There’s a park at the end of the block,” he said, and wanted to take her hand, but didn’t. If she didn’t want to talk tomorrow, maybe she didn’t want to touch tonight.

They walked side by side but a mile apart, the crickets too loud and the streetlights too bright. The mosquitos were bad and the breeze was chilly and he should have tried harder to talk her into bringing a sweater before they left his house. _None of my sweaters go with these shorts_ , she’d protested when he’d insisted, digging through her suitcase and looking right at home in his bedroom. _I’ll be fine_ , she’d said, and kissed him when he’d looked at her in concern. An ache hummed through his body as he wondered if he’d still worry about her being cold after tonight, or if that would be someone else’s job soon.

It only took them a minute to reach the park but the silence made it feel like longer. They drifted towards a bench and tried not to think about the day they’d met. Brian couldn’t believe it had only been six days. It was too little and too much.  

Sadie sat down on the bench and Brian slipped his flannel off and hung it over her shoulders before he sat down beside her. He draped an arm across the back of the bench, and was so relieved when she curled up against him that his breath caught in his chest.

“Are you mad?” she whispered.

He shook his head, but what came out was “Yes.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Me too.”

“I shouldn’t have said I wouldn’t come back,” Sadie said. “That was really shitty.”

“It’s shitty no matter what,” he said. “There’s no right thing to do.”

“No, the right thing to do would’ve been to ask what you thought we should do after tonight,” she said. “Like Joe said, it takes two to tango. I’m not the only one getting hurt here.”

“What else did Joe say?”

“That we’re idiots,” she said.

“He’s not wrong.”

“We always knew this was stupid,” Sadie said. “I knew it from the minute you asked if I wanted to get a drink with you.”

“That’s because you thought I was a murderer.”

“No, it was because I thought you were so cute I didn’t even care that you could be a murderer.”

“You’re right,” he teased, letting his fingers trail up her arm. He wouldn’t hurt a fly. “That is stupid.”

She smiled. “Don’t flirt with me, I’ll cry.”

“You started it.”

Her smile shook and fell. “What do we do?”

Brian rested his chin on the top of her head, tightening his hold around her shoulders. He thought about what Sal had told him. _Let her go if she wants to go. Be here if she wants to stay._

“I don’t know,” he said. “I just know I’m fucking gutted thinking this is it. Because this isn’t it, Sadie. You know it isn’t.”

She turned her head to nestle into the crook of his neck.

“Even if you get on that plane tomorrow and delete my number and never talk to me again,” he said. “This still happened.”

“Every second,” she agreed.

“Do you regret it?” he asked.

“Brian,” she laughed softly, pressing her nose against his collar bone, trying to get as close to him as she could. She didn’t say anything for so long that he braced himself for the blow that was surely building, and then he realized she was crying.

Without a word, he used one arm to pull her closer to him and the other to scoop up her legs and bring them across this lap. He held her tight and bit his lip while he listened to her sniffle.

“When I told people I was going to New York,” she finally managed, “I told them I just needed a vacation. A little time to myself. I told them I was going to write in coffee shops and see some plays and do all the touristy stuff you see in movies. I was like you know what, I just need a little change of scenery to get back on my feet, that’s all.”

Brian nodded. He didn’t know where she was going with this; he just knew he’d listen to her talk for as long as he could.

“But the truth was, when I came here, I was so fucking done,” she said. “I was done with who I let myself turn into; I was done with people who didn’t love me; I was done hiding away in a town that never wanted me to begin with. I came here ready to set the world on fire.”

Mission accomplished, he wanted to tell her. His fucking world was in flames.

“And now I’m just burning bridges,” she said, using the sleeve of his shirt to wipe her tears as she looked up at him. “That’s the only thing I regret.”

Brian remembered the high of running into a burning building. He’d been addicted to it once, to the smoke in his eyes and his throat closing up and the ash on his skin. There was beauty in destruction and he’d never been able to stay away from it. He looked at her and realized she was the first fire he’d ever loved that hadn’t hurt him. She’d lit him up and kept him warm, and maybe she was leaving and maybe she wouldn’t come back, but she’d still healed his burns. She was a sweet little fire that had only wrecked the worst parts of his heart, and he could see and breathe and feel clearer because of her. It hurt, but it wasn’t bad.

“It’s okay,” Brian told her. “We can always build a new one later.”

Sadie seemed to like that answer. She finally smiled, and it reminded him of the moment they’d met and the way she’d pulled him stumbling towards her with just a look, because that was what she was doing now. “I hope so,” she said, and sounded like she meant it.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she said. She wasn’t crying. She wasn’t happy, but she was okay. “I mean, as soon as the plane lifts off the ground tomorrow, my heart’s going to shatter into bits, but I wouldn’t trade this week for the world.”

Brian kissed her forehead, and when she melted into him, he wondered how he’d gone so long without kissing her. “Me neither,” he said. “Can we go back to before I asked you to stay?”

“Sure, if we can go back to before I said no like a complete asshole.”

He smiled. “We can just pretend we don’t know what’s going to happen after tomorrow.”

She smiled back. “We don’t.”

One thing about tomorrow was for sure: she wouldn’t be here, and he wanted to make damn sure he made the most of tonight while he could. He wrapped his arms around her, hand at the back of her head, lips brushing her ear. “Are you ready to call it a night?”

Sadie nodded. “We should go say goodbye to your friends,” she said. “They probably think I’m a lunatic.”

“Only because you’re dating me,” he said, grinning when she turned bright pink. “Are you blushing?" 

She ducked her head to hide it. "No," she lied.

He tipped her chin up, laughing when she did her best to hide her face from him. "Why, because I said we were dating?"

Halfheartedly fending him off when he went in for a kiss, Sadie giggled grumpily. “Leave me alone.”

“You still have such a crush on me,” he beamed, and when she laughed, he kissed her for real. Then he stood up and offered her his hand. “Come on. Let’s go home.”


	11. she's still going to miss me, and that's good enough

It was time to start saying goodnight, but they didn’t plan on sleeping.

They didn’t turn the lights on when they got back to Brian’s house, and they took their time going upstairs to his bedroom. It wasn’t like the first night when they’d run up the steps hand-in-hand, laughing giddily all the way, so wrapped up in each other they blocked everything else out, storm and all. Tonight, they were a slow, steady rain, savouring every kiss. Their hands roamed and revered, in no rush to unbutton and unzip and undo. The stairs groaned under their shifting weight as Brian kissed her neck against the wall, and with every creak of the stairs and sigh in his throat, Sadie thought _home._

In his room, with his cats sleeping on the windowsill, his clothes just shy of the laundry basket, unfinished books waiting to be picked back up on his bedside table, she thought _home_ again, and again when he slipped her shirt over her head and left trails of kisses on her skin. The closer to midnight it became, the more defiant they were, relishing in the joy of settling slowly into each other.

They were gentle and sad but the sex was rough and fast, just the way they liked it, unforgiving thrusts punctuated with claw marks and hair-pulling and love bites, frantic panting laced with profanity and I love you, bodies shaking with climaxes and emotion. It wasn’t until after, when they were lying naked on top of his covers, that they slowed back down and time sped back up.

“You never got your tattoo,” Brian said, on his side and drawing a line up the well of her spine as she laid on her stomach next to him.

She turned her head and smiled up at him with a lazy shrug. “I don’t need one to remind me of this.”

He propped his head up on his hand and smiled back, his hair a charming, flattened mess and his skin shining with sweat. “No?”

Sadie shook her head. “Nah,” she said. “Plus I don’t want anyone at home to see it and ask.”

“Why not?”

“It means too much to me to share with anyone else,” she said. “I know how they’d react. They’d call me a groupie or they’d say there’s no way this could have meant what I thought it meant in only a week. And the more time went on and the longer I went without seeing you, the more I’d start to let that shit seep in and wonder if they were right.”

“I hate that,” he said.

“Me too.” She rolled on to her back. “I mean, home’s not all bad, but sometimes it’s hard to keep your head above water when it comes to the way they teach you how to talk to yourself.”

Brian draped an arm across her stomach. “Tell me about where you live,” he said, soft and gravelly. “Good and bad.”

To her surprise, Sadie grinned. “There’s no shade,” she said. “And the sun’s always too bright. You can’t hide from anything. A lot of people think it’s ugly because prairies aren’t green and lush, but I think it’s lovely in its own way.” She traced her finger down his arm, smiling at the thought of his New York skin with a farmer’s tan. “People get too close and then they get mean, but they’re kind to strangers. There’s a funny sense of pride there, and this really earnest sense of always trying to be better. No matter how much it breaks my heart, it always feels like home.”

Brian watched her, eyes sweet and serious. “Well, I love it,” he said. “Because that’s you.”

She looked over at him and nearly melted. She turned onto her side so that she was pressed up against the length of his body. “Goddammit,” she chuckled.

“What?” he chuckled back, pulling her closer to him.

“You,” she said. “You’re so sweet I almost forget how much this sucks.”

“It doesn’t suck right now,” he reminded her. “Forget about tomorrow. Right now we’re good.”

She nodded. “We’re perfect.”

That made him smile. “We are,” he agreed, a touch of wonder and pride in his voice. When he saw a sad shadow pass over her, he pressed a kiss to her forehead, and then to her cheek and jaw and neck and lips. Home, home, home.

“What time is it?” Sadie whispered, curving her body along his.

“Only ten,” he assured her. “Lots of time.”

She kissed him for saying so. “Let’s stay like this until I have to go.”

Brian scoffed with a smirk. “Obviously.”

She wiggled closer to him, fitting her head under his chin, resting a hand on his hip. “Are you sure you can take me to the airport tomorrow?”

“I’m sure,” he said. “Stop thinking about the airport.”

“I’m an anxious flyer.”

He grinned, wild with affection. “I’m not surprised.”

“Can we get there a couple hours early?” she asked. “I don’t know the airport well, and it’s an international flight, and--”

Brian laughed, shutting her up by pinning her onto her back. “I’ll get you there.”

“I’m trying not to think about it,” she insisted apologetically. “I’m trying not to think of tomorrow at all. I’m just a bundle of jitters.”

“I know, it’s okay,” he said, running his hands up and down her body as if to soothe her jangled nerves. “But we’ll tackle the morning together and it’ll be fine, and then we’ll play it by ear from there, all right?”

“We’ll play it by ear,” she repeated, more to reassure herself.

“We’ll go back to our regular lives and see what happens,” he said.

Sadie nodded. They’d been over this. It was becoming a mantra. “We’re a long shot, so we won’t put anything on hold, but we’ll do our best.”

“Yeah,” he said. “I mean, it’s all we can do, right?”

She held her breath, then sighed. “If you meet someone, you’ll tell me.”

“I’ll tell you.”

“I know it doesn’t make a difference from across the fucking continent,” she said, “but break it off with me first, okay?”

Brian looked at her. “It makes a difference,” he said. “You too.” He shrugged, hating the idea of either of them considering anyone else. “And hey, if some creepy asshole’s hitting on you, tell him you have a boyfriend. But if some nice guy asks you out and you like him -- I mean, I don’t know. Just make sure you say goodbye to me.”

It was her turn to scoff. “I won’t meet anyone there. I’ve already met everyone.”

“Then start making plans to leave,” he said. “Even if it’s not to come here. Just get out of there.”

“I will.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

“Wherever you go, make sure it’s somewhere you can write,” he told her, his forearms on either side of her ribs. “I know writers and I know you’re one of them.”

She smiled, embarrassed, but was trapped under him so she couldn’t hide her blush from him. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he smiled back. “I’m not the only one who’s going to fall in love with you, Sadie.”

She sat up and caught his lips with hers and kissed him so hard they lost track of time and she wound up on top, smiling down at him. “You’ll always be my favourite.”

He reached up to thread his fingers through her hair and guide her down to lay her head on his shoulder, their bodies flush together. “I hope so.”

She slid off him, keeping a leg strewn over his and her ear over his heart. “I wish I could take you with me.”

His heart sped up and his voice got softer. “What would we do?”

“Besides boning?”

“If you insist.”

She smiled. “I don’t know -- we’d go for lots of drives, drink lots of slushes.”

“The fuck’s a slush?”

Laughter rumbled in her throat; she was so in love. “Okay, so we’d teach you what a slush is,” she giggled. “And you could come visit me at work and see the best sunsets you’ve seen in your whole life and we could get drunk and do karaoke.”

“Karaoke? Count me in.” He slipped an arm around her shoulders. “What would we sing?”

“Bon Jovi.”

He laughed. “You’re an idiot.”

She snickered. “I know.” She tried to picture him in her hometown, at her side for all the best parts, blocking her from the worst. “And then we could go for walks at night. We could walk right down the middle of the road and listen to the crickets. You should see how magic prairie nights are.”

Brian was quiet for a long time. “I’d love that.”

She shrugged. “It’s not New York, but it’s got its charm.”

Goosebumps ran up his arms as he fell a little more in love with her. He cleared his throat. “What will you miss the most?”

She lifted her head to grin deviously at him. “Besides boning?”

He laughed, winded. “I just assumed that was a given.”

Sadie laid her head back down on his chest and let herself think about New York. She’d miss everything. She’d miss the anonymity and the way you have no choice but to keep moving forward in a crowd. She’d miss the architecture and how small and limitless she felt. She’d miss the food and the culture and the art and music, and she’d miss Joe and Sal and Murr and the way all those things made her feel like she’d finally come home.

But more than anything, Sadie would miss Brian. Maybe she wasn’t New York, but he was, bright and busy and bold, and she loved him. She’d miss the way he walked into a room, the way he laughed, the way he waited for her, whether they were having sex or getting ready to leave. She’d miss the way he looked at her and she’d miss all the things he loved, and she’d miss looking at him and knowing she was one of those things. She’d miss his cats and his comics and the pictures on his walls, and she’d miss the questions he asked and the answers he gave. She’d miss his hands and his smile and everything about his body, and it wasn’t just because of the way all those things fit her so well, it was just because she adored him. It was him. She would miss him the most.

Her fingers moved gently over his heart like a slow song on the piano and she told him, “I’ll miss marveling at you.”

“Come here,” he whispered, no breath in his lungs, and wrapped his arms around her. “Want to know what I’ll miss most?" he asked. "I’ve been making a list.”

She buried her face in the hollow of his shoulder, breathing him in, nuzzling against stubble. “About what?”

“You, you dumbass.”

She snickered. “Yes I do.”

Brian gave her wrist a feeble shake, making her giggle. “You always have pen marks on your hands,” he said. “I’ll miss wondering what you’ve gotten up to.”

“Ughhhhh,” she groaned, burrowing in closer, and grumbled, “You.”

He lifted his chin to make room for her. “Maybe someday you’ll write about us.”

She smiled against his skin. Her _maybe_ sounded a lot like _yes._

“I’ll also miss how you always sneeze when the sun gets in your eyes,” he said. “And you sneeze like a monster, which makes it even funnier.”

She laughed. “I’m a charmer, all right.”

“And I’ll miss how you say shit like that like you have no fucking idea,” he said. “I’ll miss the way you roll your eyes and crack yourself up all at the same time. You’re my perfect kind of funny.”

“You want me to start crying again, Quinn?”

“No thanks,” Brian said, kissing her forehead, and then smiled mischievously into it as he slipped out from under her and locked her between his arms. “I’m not done my list,” he told her with a slow grin, and kept his eyes locked on hers as his lips took a trip down her body.

“I’ll miss this freckle,” he said, kissing a spot on her shoulder, “and this one,” as he kissed another, “and this,” with a purr in the back of his throat as he took her left breast in his mouth, tongue circling languidly before he moved to the right. “And that,” he added with a cheeky smirk, biting his bottom lip when he saw her biting hers, and then lowered his head again to kiss his way down her stomach. “Here, here, and here,” he whispered, her soft gasp nearly undoing him, but he forced himself to pay gentle tribute to the bruise on her hip bone that had been there since they’d fucked in the bathroom at the comedy club.

Sadie’s hand went to his hair to guide him a little to the left, legs spreading so he could settle down between them, but he wasn’t done with his little field trip. “Can’t forget your knobby knees,” he teased, relishing in the art of driving her nuts as he moved down the bed to press his lips to one knee and then the other.

“Don’t you dare touch my feet,” she whispered, both of them shaking with laughter and want.

Brian smiled against her inner thighs, his breath hot on her skin as she stretched her legs around his shoulders. He looked up, eyebrow arched. “I’ll miss how fucking impatient you are,” he said, gravel in his voice, as he finally turned his face between her legs and watched her chest hitch with anticipation.

He didn’t even have to touch her and she was trembling. He didn’t have the words to tell her how much he’d miss that, so he said nothing and dove in. His tongue ghosted over her clit, and she bucked into the touch, grateful and greedy, so he wrapped his arms around her legs for leverage and went to town. Soon neither of them could breathe, Sadie forgetting how to and Brian unable to with his tongue so deep in her. Beard wet, he raised his head and gave her something to miss as he locked his mouth over her clit and teased it with his tongue while sucking hard, cheeks hollowed out.

After a week with her, he was more than well-acquainted with her shuddering orgasms and her shaking aftershocks, but he wasn’t about to let those stop him, not yet, not when she was so close to leaving. If she wanted him to stop, she’d have to tell him with more than just coming on his face. She’d miss this; he would make sure of it.

Swallowing a stuttered scream, Sadie surged sharp and hard, her body shooting up into a sitting position from the force of it, and Brian stopped, eagerly pushing himself up and onto his knees to meet her. Not bothering to wipe his beard, he cupped her jaw in one hand and looked at her.

“But mostly this,” he said before he kissed her, slow and lazy and deep.

“Mostly this,” she agreed, kissing him back until she’d eased him down into the sheets, where she returned the favour, and they went on missing each other until morning.


	12. it's easier to leave than to be left behind (leaving new york's never easy)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it! Thanks for reading and leaving kudos and some of the kindest comments I've ever read. I've got something new in the works so I hope you'll stay tuned. Thanks again to everyone for sticking with Q and Sadie on their little journey; it's been a blast. :)

When people fit like puzzle pieces, there is nothing left to do but break apart. You’ve seen the bigger picture; now you know; now what? You know how lovely you can be together, but you can’t stay that way because at the end of the day you can only be pulled apart, and that’s just how it works.

But even split up, these pieces are still only made for each other. Nothing else will work. And that was okay when you didn’t know the other piece was out there, but now you know, now you know how you fit together, now you know there is nothing else. Now, there is no more _alone_. Now, there is only _without you._

+

“Do you have everything?”

Sadie tossed a glance over her shoulder. She was skating precariously on the edge of tears now that the sun was up and the calendar matched the date on her return ticket home and all her bags were packed and ready to go. There he was, standing in the doorway of a bedroom she wished she could move into, handsome as hell in a plain black t-shirt and newsboy cap, holding out a steaming cup of coffee to her. How could he possibly ask if she had everything when it was all right here and she was leaving?

“Think so,” she managed, crossing the room to take the mug from him. She leaned into him, her cheek finding its home against his chest. “Thanks for the coffee.”

Brian draped an arm around her shoulder and leaned into the doorframe. “Anytime,” he said. “Figured you’re gonna need it today.”

She nodded, taking a shaky sip of her coffee. “Sorry I fell asleep this morning,” she said, even though it had only been for an hour. “You should’ve woken me up.”

“Nonsense,” Brian said. “Then I wouldn’t have been able to creepily watch you sleep.”

Sadie smiled. “You’re such a weirdo.”

He laughed. “Besides, I’m the one who tuckered you out,” he said. “Technically it’s my fault.”

“True,” she admitted. “It’s going to be weird going to bed without you tonight.”

“Tell me about it,” he said. “I’ll probably have to sleep on the couch.”

Sadie pulled back so she could look up at him. “A weirdo and a sweetheart.”

He grinned proudly. “Thanks for noticing,” he said. “Do you want to sit outside to drink your coffee before we go?”

“If you’re coming with me.”

Brian kissed her forehead. “Right behind you.”

Sadie led the way down the creaky stairs, wishing it was last week and they were climbing up them for the first time. She stepped over their shoes in the front entrance, remembering how surreal it had felt to be invited here in the first place and to grin up at him with a week’s worth of potential still ahead of them. From there she walked into the kitchen, where the cats were eating breakfast and she smiled because they’d hit the kitty jackpot with someone like Brian to take care of them, and she loved that they had eyes for no one but him. She knew how they felt.

With his hand on the small of her back, Sadie pushed open the screen door and stepped onto the back stoop, something about standing outside in her bare feet on a sunny morning with a coffee in hand making this feel more like home than anything else ever had. She sat down on the top step and wished for the storm that had made her kiss him. At least there weren’t any storms back home, so she wouldn’t have anything to compare that night to. It was better that way.

“What does your week look like?” Brian asked, sitting beside her.

“Going back to the nine to five life and hanging out with my cat,” Sadie replied. “How about you? Another busy week?”

“Not really, actually,” he said. “Mostly just meetings. It’s too bad you didn’t come this week instead of last week when it was so crazy. I could’ve spent more time with you.”

She smiled over at him. “I wouldn’t have met you if you were in a meeting.”

He smiled back. “Good point,” he said. “Forgot about those lucky stars of ours.”

Sadie sipped her coffee and willed herself not to check the time. “I think everything that’s supposed to happen does happen,” she said. “Maybe that’s a lazy way of thinking, and maybe that’s rich coming from someone who stayed put for so long, but I believe it.”

“I’m the opposite,” Brian said. “I don’t think things happen unless you go after them. Which you did.”

Sadie considered that. “Maybe it’s a little bit of both.”

He rested his shoulder against hers. “Maybe it is.”

+

Brian played Roy Orbison on their drive to the airport and pointed out all the places he’d bring her someday when she came back.

“I told my mom about you, so now you have to,” he said, only half-joking.

Sadie laughed, clutching the strap of her seatbelt to give her nervous hands something to do. “When did you do that?”

“Yesterday, when you were out getting coffee,” he said. “She’s practically already started creating the menu for when I bring you home for dinner.”

“Brian Goddamn Quinn,” Sadie scolded. “As if I needed to love you more.”

He grinned, eyes on the road as he changed lanes. “The more the merrier.”

“God,” she grumbled, heart completely aflutter. “I bet your mom’s adorable, too.”

“Oh, she is,” he said. “You wouldn’t want to disappoint her.”

Sadie smiled out the passenger side window. “No. That would be a bad first impression.”

“And knowing my dad, he’s getting all his best dad jokes ready,” Brian went on. “He’s got some real doozies.”

“I’ll bring some of my own so we can battle,” Sadie said, the closest thing to a promise she’d allowed herself to make all week. She could tell by his smile that he’d noticed.

“I’ve got two brothers, too,” Brian told her. “The harder time they give you, the more they like you.”

“I’ll remember that,” she smiled, doing her best to ignore the road signs telling them they were getting closer to the airport.

“What about you?” Brian asked after he’d taken a moment to swear at a Jersey driver who’d just cut him off, leaving them stuck in bottlenecked traffic. “What does your mom think?”

It was hard to say. She’d always been the responsible, stalwart one of the family, the one left behind to look after her mother, even when she was too little to do so. Her mom had long since stopped trying to push her out of the nest, because it had benefited her for Sadie to stay. But she’d also been the one to help Sadie move all her stuff out of her ex’s place while he was at work, and she’d been the one dropping hints for years about schools across the country that offered writing courses, and she’d been the one telling Sadie she’d never find the story she was meant to tell if she stayed in their hometown.

Finally, Sadie shook her head. “She’d tell me I was nuts to set myself up for heartbreak like this,” she said. “She’d tell me long-distance is bullshit and that we’d drive ourselves crazy with paranoia and jealousy and the only way this wouldn’t end badly is if I moved here, and there are only three ways I could do that: go to school, get offered a job, or get married.”

Brian glanced at her, bracing himself for the worst. Ever since their blow up last night, they’d been so careful to tread around reality.

But then Sadie shrugged and took her eyes off the blurry skyline in the distance, and smiled over at him. “And then she’d tell me there are plenty of good writing schools in New York.”

Brian’s stomach flipped, too startled to even smile back. “And what would you say?”

“I’d say I couldn’t afford it and I’d probably need to upgrade before I even had a shot at being considered,” Sadie said. “But that maybe it was something to think about.”

“Huh,” he said, a slow smile spreading over his face. “All right.”

“All right,” she agreed, the same smile on hers. Then she scowled at the unmoving cars all around them, road rage bubbling. “What the fuck is this shit? Did someone die up there? I’m gonna kill them.”

Brian laughed, closing a hand over her knee. “Welcome to New York, sweetheart.”

+

At the airport, Sadie couldn’t understand why her feet were still moving. Everything in her head was crying out at them to stop, to turn around, to find him, to take his hand, to cling to his side, to go home with him. But she kept going, checking her suitcase and then wandering back to the t-shirt kiosk where he’d told her to wait for him while he found parking.

It occurred to her as she waited that she hadn’t bought any souvenirs besides books, so she grabbed a shirt at random and took it to the till. She was paying for it teary-eyed when Brian came back to her.

“Hey,” he laughed, his fingers brushing over her back as he stood beside her. “Are you crying over I Heart New York t-shirts?”

“I hate American money,” she wept, holding up a handful of nonsensical cash to him. “Help me.”

Hearts in his eyes, he chuckled and gently closed her fist before he reached for his wallet. “I’ll get you a shirt.”

“Not with _your_ money,” she said, reaching out a hand to stop him before he could get his wallet out. “ _My_ money.”

“It’s only like 15 bucks.”

“If I don’t spend it now then I’m going to have to bring it home and get it exchanged and I don’t want to exchange it because it’ll make me sad so will you please help me sort through your insane money before I further embarrass myself?”

“Okay,” he laughed, putting his wallet away. He slung an arm over her shoulder and then plucked two ten dollar bills out of her hands and offered them to the unfazed cashier with a wink. “She’s in love with me, you know.”

The cashier cracked a smirk and handed Sadie her change. “Have a nice day.”

“Thanks, you too,” Sadie muttered, politely morose. She stuffed the stupid dollar bills back in her wallet and grabbed her shirt and shuffled away, red-rimmed eyes glancing up at the arrival/departure board against her will.

Brian gave her a sad, affectionate smile. “Getting anxious, huh?”

She nodded. “This is the dumbest day.”

He put his arm around her and tucked her head under his chin. “It’s not our best.”

She sighed. “I’m nervous about flying and I want to get through security but I don’t want to leave you yet.”

“You’ve got lots of time, sweetheart,” he said. “Nothing to worry about.”

She locked her hands behind his waist and held on tight, and she didn’t say anything but Brian could practically hear the worries racing through her head.

“Nothing to worry about, Sadie,” he repeated. “Say something so I know you’re alive.”

“Hi,” she said.

He laughed. “Hi.”

“I know I got weird yesterday when you brought up Skype,” she said in a bluster. “But maybe we could talk tonight?”

Brian smiled. “I’d like that.”

“You’ll be two hours ahead of me,” she said. “What time is too late to call?”

“It won’t be,” he told her. “Just call.”

Sadie closed her eyes and tried to hold on to everything about him while she still could. Strong arms. Sturdy body. Gentle pulse. Equal parts grumpy and kind and amused at any given moment. Of course she was in love with him.

“Okay?” he pressed.

“Yeah,” she replied. “Yes. Sorry. Just trying to keep my shit together here.”

His hand rubbed circles between her shoulder blades. “We’ll see each other again soon, Sadie.”

She remembered sitting in that horseshoe-shaped booth at the dive bar the night they met, and how safe she’d felt. She remembered the way being with him quieted every alarm bell going off in her brain, the ones that never shut off for her, no matter what, and she remembered how this strange man in this scary city had somehow showed up with a smile and made everything gentle and kind. She remembered spilling her heart in a way she never would, never had, simply because there was something about him that made her want to tell the truth. She remembered sitting across from him, listening to him say nice things to her, and she remembered letting herself believe them.

And here, in his arms, in this airport, tears in her eyes, jitters in her knees, she realized: she still believed him.

“I know,” she smiled.

“Promise?”

“Promise,” she said. She pulled back, suddenly feeling brave and okay. “I should go, Brian.”

He bit his lip and then stepped forward and kissed her forehead before he enveloped her in one final bear hug.

She could barely breathe in his grip but she didn’t care; she just squeezed back just as hard. “Thank you for this week,” she whispered, every bone in her body aching as her heart broke all over him. “I think it changed my fucking life.”

He smiled into her hair. He knew exactly what she meant, but “thanks,” was all he could manage to say.

Sadie kissed his cheek and let him go. “I’ll talk to you tonight,” she promised.

“You will,” he promised back, cupping her face with his hand so he could kiss her as soundly as he could. It felt too much goodbye and they both knew it but it was all they had left. “Have a safe flight, Sadie, okay?”

“Thanks,” she said, running a hand through his hair and sneaking one final kiss. “Bye, Brian.”

Brian took a step forward as she gave him a little wave and started to back away. “Hey.”

She smiled but didn’t stop. “Yeah?”

“I’m glad I sat down beside you that day,” he said. “I’m glad you didn’t finish your book on the plane.”

“Me too,” she laughed, breaking to pieces. “Bye!”

“Hey!”

Sadie grinned, heart in her throat as she got closer to security but still couldn’t quite turn away from him. “What!”

“I love you!”

Sadie didn’t know if she was laughing or crying, but it was probably both. “I love you back!” she called, before she finally turned around and faced the corridor that would take her to security.

Neither of them knew it, but everyone around them had stopped to stare, watching him watch her go, watching her wipe away tears as she went, both of them smiling so helplessly it was a fucking spectacle. Even split apart, they’d made marvels of each other.

+

Sadie sat alone, backpack up on the seat next to her so that no one else could sit down, a far cry from the girl Brian had picked out in the park last Monday. If she’d been this girl that day, the one with walls a mile high, crushed and unapproachable with her sad heart on her sleeve, would last week have even happened? Or would he have found someone else, gotten his win, and gone home?

But then, maybe she was right -- maybe things happened because they were supposed to. Good and bad. Like them. Like the goodbye that was always around the corner. Like the things Joe and Sal had said to them after their fight. Like last night and this morning and maybe even everything to come. They were supposed to happen.

There were still ten minutes before boarding, and she sat, downcast and scribbling in a notebook, drowning in the I Heart NY t-shirt she’d picked off the shelf without checking the size first, and she was perhaps one of the cutest, saddest sights imaginable. No one would sit next to this girl, but someone should.

But if no one did, she wouldn’t be wrecked. Not this Sadie, not now. This Sadie would carry New York with her and let it cover her in concrete and magic whenever she needed either. This Sadie went on adventures with strangers and wasn’t afraid of her good heart or the big things she wanted to do with it. This Sadie was a friend who loved to listen and laugh and let others have their spotlight, and she was a friend who knew when to lean on someone’s shoulder and hear their kind words and let them take care of her. This Sadie had an unbreakable spine and playful eyes and the softest hands and her arms and heart were a home and this Sadie would return to her old life not giving a fuck if no one there could see any of that, because she knew, and that was enough.

So yes, she was right. Everything that was supposed to happen did happen. She was returning home as the person she was meant to be.

But then again, maybe Brian was a little bit right too. She’d come to New York to find her roots, and she had. She’d come here to find herself again, and she had. Maybe the universe and all its lucky stars really do look out for you, but maybe the best of things only happen when you go after them.

Only one way to find out.

“Excuse me, do you have a second? I’m in a bit of a pickle and I was wondering if I could get your advice on something.”

Sadie dropped her pen and looked up, eyes wide, jaw slack. Her heart dropped to the floor, and in her daze, all she could do was blink and smile and ask, “About what?”

Brian held on to the straps of his backpack like he was getting ready to jump out of an airplane. “Well, there’s this girl,” he said, his hand going nervously to his brow when she laughed, out of breath, and continued, “and I’m crazy about her and she can’t stay so I should go after her, right?”

Sadie tried to spit out a _what the fuck_ and _thank God,_ and in her scramble to toss aside her notebook and stand up and fall into his arms, all that did come out was _thank fuck_ and a stream of laughter that confirmed Brian’s belief about the best of things.

“Right,” she laughed. “One hundred million percent right.”

“Okay, good,” he laughed back. “That’s what I was hoping for.”

Sadie shoved her backpack to the floor so he could sit beside her, which he was happy to do. “I don’t get it, but what the actual fuck are you doing? Are you for real?”

He shrugged, setting his own backpack between his feet. “It was Sal’s idea.”

She smacked his shoulder. “ _What?”_

“Last night,” Brian said. “I mean, he was kind of joking, but he was like ‘if she can’t stay, maybe you should go’ and so I booked my flight when you were sleeping this morning.”

“How did you know which fucking flight I was on?”

“I helped you check in, remember? And also I’m basically a ninja.”

She couldn’t quite grasp any part of this concept as an actual possibility that wasn’t about to get taken from her. “But what about work?”

“We just have those bullshit meetings this week,” he said. “I can do those over the phone.”

“Who’s going to feed your cats?”

“Sal.”

“Isn’t he like deathly afraid of them?”

“He is, but he’s also a big softie,” Brian laughed. “Plus he’ll probably talk Murr into doing it anyway.”

Sadie studied him with giddy wonder. “So how long do I have you for?”

“Next Sunday,” he said. “Plenty of time to teach me what the fuck a slush is.”

She kissed him, her hands trembling with excitement as she held his face. “And do Bon Jovi karaoke,” she added.

He laughed and kissed her back until her hands stopped shaking. “How could I forget?”

She hugged him, now fully aware that they were making a spectacle of themselves, but too excited and proud to care. “I’m so happy I could just about fly off the fucking planet.”

Brian tucked her hair behind her ear and grinned at her. “ _Aboat_ ,” he chuckled, mimicking the way she pronounced _about_ with absolute affection _._ “Quick question before we go.”

“Yes,” she grinned back.

“Is everyone’s accent going to be as strong as yours?” he asked. “It’s so adorable I’m worried I might laugh at some strapping cowboy who could kick my ass so I’d just like to be prepared.”

“I don’t have an accent.”

“Right,” he huffed. “Neither do I.”

Sadie laughed. “You’ll blend right in.”

“You won’t,” he told her, watching her with a smile on his face.

She looked over at him, her eyes watering. “Thank you,” she said, soft and adoring.

He stretched an arm over the back of her chair and she laid her head down on his shoulder until the PA crackled to life and announced boarding would begin shortly.

“Hey,” Sadie said, stuffing her notebook in her backpack as they gathered their things. “Where are you sitting?”

“Front middle somewhere -- there wasn’t much to choose from when I booked this morning,” he said, standing and helping her with her backpack. When she stood and looked up at him, their smiles snagged on each other and grew devilishly. “So we won’t be sitting together, but maybe I can meet you in the bathroom for old time’s sake.”

Sadie laughed. “I’m too scared to pee in an airplane bathroom, let alone get boned nine ways from Sunday in one,” she said, patting his arm. “But lucky for you, there’s literally nothing else to do when we get home, so we’ll be busy.”

“When we get home,” he repeated. “I like the sound of that.”

“Me too,” she smiled, taking him by the hand and leading him to the line up of passengers waiting to board.

They shuffled forward together, side-by-side, passports in hand, neither quite able to believe they were doing this but couldn’t imagine any other alternative. They smiled at each other, two puzzle pieces clinging for just a little bit longer, the picture they were meant to make clear as day to anyone who saw them together. 

“Hey,” Brian said, lifting her hand and kissing the back of it.

“Hmm?” They were next in line, and her butterflies were doing flips in her stomach.

“Is this crazy?”

Sadie looked up at him and beamed. “Yes.”

He grinned back. “We’re gonna do it anyway?”

“Yep.”

“Good,” Brian said, kissing the side of Sadie’s head before he stepped forward and handed the flight attendant his boarding pass. “Let’s go.”


End file.
